Tomorrow Never Knows
by Freddo
Summary: The first of a series of Star Blazers fan fictions from my "Visions" site--this is an immediate sequel to the Comet Empire series where Earth meets a new foe while the Star Force tries to get their lives back together again in the aftermath of Zordar's at
1. Tomorrow Never Knows Act One

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

**STAR BLAZERS**

**Tomorrow Never Knows**

**By Frederick P. Kopetz**

* * *

A Novelette in Four Acts with Note to the Following: 

_STAR BLAZERS, SPACE BATTLESHIP YAMATO,_ and all related names and elements are copyright © 1998 by Voyager Entertainment, Inc and Leiji Matsumoto. _Star Blazers _is a registered trademark of Jupiter Films, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

NOTE: This story and its successors represent an Alternate Reality that may or may not coincide with the events portrayed in the _STAR BLAZERS_ and _SPACE BATTLESHIP YAMATO_ series and movies.

Special Thanks to Derek C. Wakefield and the rest of THE ISCANDAR PROJECT for ideas and concepts of theirs I have been permitted to use herein. These ideas are copyright © 1998 by Derek C. Wakefield and THE ISCANDAR PROJECT. Otherwise, all original concepts contained herein are copyright © 1998 by Frederick P. Kopetz.

Special Thanks to Gail R. Kopetz for her aid and assistance

* * *

**_ACT ONE—HOMECOMING--- _**

* * *

**I. FAREWELLS**

**Space Battleship _Argo_**

**The Vicinity of Earth**

**November 15, 2201**

**1010 Hours-Spacetime**

* * *

"Come _ON,_ this is the last rescue ship!" snapped Doctor Sakezo Sane as Lieutenant Commander Derek Wildstar, who was the Deputy Captain of the Star Force and the Acting Commander of the Earth space battleship _Argo _came slowly down an access gangway towards one of the _Argo's _Type Two "Astro Nightingale" SMB Medevac boats with Lieutenant Commander Stephen Sandor, the ship's Mechanical Group Leader. Sandor was tired, injured, and all too obviously missing a bionic leg, all courtesy of the Comet Empire. 

Around and above Wildstar, the _Argo _was a smoking mess, also courtesy of the Comet Empire. The most recent damage had been delivered by a mad Prince Zordar, who had virtually declared his own self-proclaimed divinity after crippling the _Argo_ before heading off to begin devastating Earth with his siege cannon.

Wildstar shivered with rage for a second as he glanced down towards Earth. Their Earth, now about to be enslaved by Zordar and his Black Dreadnought...

_Zordar, you think we're helpless, don't you?_ thought Wildstar. _You don't think I can do anything, do you? Well...I can...and I **will.**_

Sandor noticed Wildstar glancing around as they approached the litter that Doctor Sane was pushing up out of the medical boat. "Where's Nova?" he asked in a breathless tone over the helmet comlink, referring, of course, to Lieutenant Nova Forrester, who was the ship's Living Group Leader as well as his girlfriend.

"Uhh...," said Sane, looking around, "She was here just a minute ago... I don't...," he muttered, looking inside the SMB only to see IQ-9 and the litters carrying Lieutenant Chris Eager, Ensign Neville Royster, and some of the other crew members being evacuated off the ship.

"She must have left on the other ship with Homer!" piped up IQ in response to Doctor Sane's question.

"I guess so...," said Sane, wondering where Nova could've disappeared to so quickly.

In his litter, Sandor gave a quick nod. "That's everybody, then," said Wildstar while he and Dr. Sane pushed Sandor into the shuttle.

A moment later, Dr. Sane wondered what Wildstar was doing as he stepped back out onto the gangway, and stood there stiffly for a moment.

"...Coming?" he asked as he looked back at Wildstar. He was standing there with a very serious look on his face, framed by a plume of reddish smoke that was bleeding from the battered _Argo_, now a few seconds short of being abandoned.

"...I want to thank you...for everything you've done, Doc," said Wildstar in a very low and rather formal voice. A voice that, to Doctor Sane, sounded rather morose.

"C'mon...Wildstar," said Doctor Sane, trying to be reassuring. "You've done everything you can here. Now, Earth needs us."

Wildstar took a deep breath. "You're so right, Doc. You'd better hurry!" he said in a more animated voice. "We've got to take off right away!" he said as he gently pushed Dr. Sane into the SMB.

Wildstar stepped towards the pilot's console towards IQ-9, who was already in the co-pilot's seat. Doctor Sane thought little of it. He wasn't a pilot. To keep his mind occupied, the elderly little man looked back at his patients as he headed back into the body of the boat. They looked fine. Glancing through a viewport, he vaguely wondered who was flying the other boat, which he glimpsed heading down, down towards Earth. Doctor Sane then noticed Wildstar pushing a button on the console. He wondered for a moment why Derek had not yet strapped himself in, but again, he thought little of it.

_Probably in another one of his bad moods, _thought Sane as he bent down to check on Royster, who was unconscious with quite a few bloody bandages around his head._ After what's happened today, who can blame him? _

Doctor Sane went back to working on Royster as Wildstar continued to stand there looking at the console for a second.

"NO!" chirped IQ-9 as Wildstar quickly pulled back a switch. "Wildstar, you've locked the controls!" cried the robot as an indicator light marked **AUTO** glared ominously on the boat's console.

The shuttle began to launch as Wildstar drifted back out into space. "Stop him, Doctor!" cried IQ-9. Sane's attention was finally diverted away from his patient, just in time to see the hatch closing. It clicked shut as Doctor Sane cried, _"WILDSTAR!"_ and simultaneously realized he was outside.

"IQ-9, you tinwitted bucket of bolts!" yelled Sane as he looked through the viewport, noticing Wildstar drifting back down towards the burning wreck of the Argo. "Can't you STOP this thing so we can go back there and get him? He's gone mad!"

IQ looked at the console. A yellow arrow blinked on a gauge. "The steering gear is set on automatic pilot, and he locked it in! We can't stop!" said IQ-9.

"WILDSTAR!" screamed Doctor Sane as the shuttle blasted further and further away from the _Argo_, and the little figure, whom he noticed standing at attention on the gangplank.

"You young fool!" cried Doctor Sane as the shuttle accelerated away. "STOP BEING HONORABLE! Don't you know the _Argo's_ about to blow herself to bits?"

On the gangway, Wildstar heard nothing. Doctor Sane was now just a little face yelling words that could not be heard now because the boat had already put Wildstar beyond the transmitter range of Doctor Sane's older, low-gain spacesuit radio set.

As the shuttle receded into the blackness of space, Wildstar slowly and ceremonially saluted, aware that Doctor Sane was safe, aware that Sandor and his crewmen were safe, and aware that the other Medevac boat was probably home, as well, which meant that Nova was also safe, along with the others.

_Good. I did well._ he thought to the silence.

His chest swelled with pride as he thought of the _Argo._

_We can do it,_ he thought. _We're going to WIN...you and I..., _he added in silence. He held the salute, and after a moment, slowly lowered his hand.

Then, he looked up at the twisted metal, smoke, and above that, the damaged, but still-majestic bulk of the _Argo's _bridge tower.

With a resolute glance upwards, he nodded, as if the ship had answered him. She was battered, smoking, burning, even quivering a little every now and then. But, she was still there.

Still ready...for this one task...this final task.

Inside the _Argo, _Wildstar actuated a button, praying that the airlock would work. It did, with the hatch rolling shut behind him as he turned to open an access panel.

He pulled down the panel. "There's no escape capsule here." he muttered quietly in his helmet as the lights above the sealed outer hatch went green. "I'll have to look for another one. At least the gravity's light..."

Gritting his teeth, Wildstar went on, hoping to accomplish his task before he ran out of time.

* * *

Wildstar stood on the _Argo's _ruined bridge, at long last, after a very long walk and many preparations.. 

_And now,_ thought Derek. ._..All I have to do is say goodbye to what has been my home for so long..._

Them, Wildstar turned towards the aft bulkhead, looking at the silent bronze portrait of Captain Avatar, the _Argo's _first Captain. _...And to you, who have been like a father to me..._

Derek stood before the empty Command console for a long, long time, listening to the explosions deep within the once-mighty ship as the _Argo_ slowly continued to die around him.

"Oh...this is hard...," he said out loud again, looking up at Captain Avatar's portrait. "Captain, I know what the _Argo_ meant to you...it was your home, and it was home to the Star Force." At that, Wildstar bowed his head. "The _Argo's _a proud ship, and I'm sending her on her last mission, from which she'll never return," said Wildstar in a very choked-up voice as he knelt in respect and homage to both Captain Avatar and the ship. "It's the only thing I can do to save planet Earth!" he said, almost in a sob.

He knelt on the deck, catching his breath, stifling his tears, collecting himself. Finally, Derek stood, continuing to speak to Avatar while walking slowly towards the memorial plaque which hung behind the command station. "I know to some, the _Argo_ is just a ship. She's MORE than that to us. She's the spirit of the Star Force, and she will do what must be done. It's a hard duty, Captain Avatar, but if Earth is to survive, it must be done."

"She'll go with honor, I promise you," said Wildstar, looking about the bridge as his voice hitched again. "...a great ship."

Wildstar continued to glance around, looking one last time at the_ Argo's _smashed bridge...before a movement to his left caught his attention.

_Who...who is it? _, he thought as he noticed that someone was approaching from the lift doors behind the command station. But then, his eyes went wide when he noticed not only that he wasn't alone...but that, in addition, the second presence on the _Argo's_ bridge was very familiar to him.

"NOVA!" he cried in a half-choked voice as his beloved approached with a quiet but determined look on her face.

"Did you think I would let you do it alone, Derek?" she challenged. "I saw you put the escape capsule in the airlock...what's your plan?"

"I'm going to ram Zordar's ship with the _Argo,_" replied Wildstar with determination in his voice.

"And then escape?" asked Forrester.

"When we're close enough, I'll set the automatic pilot, and we'll escape...TOGETHER," he said with soft emphasis in his voice.

"You were going to do all that ALONE with no one to help you?" asked Nova gently.

Wildstar's eyes went wide with shock as he realized : _Not only did you decide to follow me...but you've decided to help me, too, when I could've done this myself. Or...could I? Would there have been enough time to set everything myself? Maybe not. But, ...Nova...Why do you have to keep on risking your life for my sake? Why? _he demanded to himself with shock on his face_. WHY?_

"The Star Force is a group..." continued Nova with a shake of her head. "...you know that! And I knew what you were planning to do was dangerous, or you wouldn't have had everyone evacuated. I'm right, aren't I?" she said with a little tilt of her head. "And I wanted to help you, but mostly...I wanted to be with you."

Wildstar's eyes stayed wide for a moment, until the thought _I can't get ever rid of you...can I? We must be fated to be together...always..._ ran through his head, and he smiled and said, "I'm...glad, Nova..."

"I couldn't go...," she continued. "...not without you! And I wanted to help you...," she said with a faltering voice as her eyes went misty with tears. "I...love you!" she cried as she ran to his arms with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Wildstar couldn't keep his arms closed and stay duty-bound, not after a declaration of devotion like that. "Nova..." he said in a soft, low, voice as she fell crying into his arms...and he felt terrible for not having thought enough about her in all of his plans for this moment. "Nova...," he said while thinking out loud. "...we haven't had much time together. It doesn't mean I don't love you. But soon, " he promised. "...when this is done...we'll spend the rest of our lives together."

Then, while snuggling against her, he realized what he was thinking...and what he was saying. He was thinking about something that he wished he could have said a long, long time ago...before everything about the Comet Empire had taken place... of something that needed to be said and gotten out in the open before he kept on blathering away like this.

With a lump in his throat, he held Nova close and said, "Nova...you are going to marry me...?"

"Oh, Derek!" replied Nova in a soft, beautiful, choked-up voice. She looked into his eyes, and, too shocked and filled with joy to speak, indicated her assent by grasping his hands and squeezing hard, adding what she thought was a nod of her head almost as an afterthought while Derek put his hand around her shoulders.

_I guess he knows I said 'yes'.._ thought Nova giddily as Wildstar tenderly took her hand. Filled with joy, Nova placed her hand over that of her...fiancée...of all of ten seconds, and smiled softly as she walked with him to the command console to begin preparing for what they would have to do.

* * *

It did not take long. 

They had to get an extra chair from one of the other stations, and, together, they carried it over the debris to the command console, which they knew was the only working station left on the _Argo's _torn bridge, and even that was barely working, as many of the screens had been broken or short-circuited. What had been Captain Avatar's chair had to be moved a short distance to starboard, to what passed for the helm controls on the Command console. The second chair was crammed in between the port side edge of the console, and the pilot's chair.

Finally, Wildstar and Forrester crammed into the chairs, and locked them into position. Then, Wildstar began to make preparations for what they both knew would be the _Argo's _final takeoff.

Nova looked at Derek, and then looked out at the stars, and asked, "What do we do?"

"Well...to ram Zordar's ship...as soon as both of us can get everything we need up and running, I'll set the autopilot when we're at fifteen megameters' distance, and we should be getting out soon afterwards. She should be at about ten or eight megameters' distance when we cycle the airlock at forty-five seconds' interval, get in the capsule, and then try to bail out... for home. And as to...what we'll be doing afterwards, after we finally get back to the Megalopolis," he said with a slight smile. "It'll be...ASAP under the circumstances, I guess, since we could land almost anywhere on the planet. But first, we have a lot to do. Especially today."

"I know," said Nova as she began to see what sort of navigational control they'd have as they took the _Argo _on her last journey...a thought that was also making her quite choked-up inside. She flicked a few switches, and a few rudimentary controls came on her side.

"Nova?" he asked.

"I'm trying to see how we can get her on course," said Nova softly as she pushed a few buttons, transferring what radar data was left on their target to the helm. "Ready," she said.

At that, they sat in silence, Wildstar with his hands near the controls as the proper headings came up on one of the small screens, Nova with her hands folded in her lap, almost in an attitude of prayer, as they again realized what they were about to do. There was no hesitation. They could not allow themselves that luxury...

...but...they could catch their breaths.

"I'm your co-pilot, Derek," said Nova in a soft but surprisingly strong voice.

Wildstar turned his head to look at her, smiling as she met his gaze. "I'm glad you stayed, " he said. "It'll bring us luck.".

Then, both of them set their faces towards the stars, with stern, serious expressions of determination.

Wildstar nudged a small joystick over a little, and felt relieved as the course heading precisely matched the Argo's current heading.

_"Target," _he intoned. "Zordar's spaceship!"

Derek's hand went around the throttle control, tightened around it, and stopped. He was ready.

"_Argo...make us proud!"_ he cried in defiance of Zordar as he pulled the throttle back.

The _Argo's _engines ignited, and the battered, smoking ship, pathetic and yet defiant with her crew of two, began to roar towards Earth...and the Comet Empire's black dreadnought.

Aboard the _Argo_, Wildstar and Nova sat in silence, watching as the seconds ticked away on a chronograph Nova had set. One of the controls they had gotten running showed the proximity between the dreadnought and Zordar's space battleship.

The distance began to shrink...eighteen megameters...then seventeen point five...then, seventeen...

At sixteen megameters' distance, the ugly space battleship began to appear before them at far visual range, clearly visible as the light of the gruesome siege cannon flashed before them.

_Soon_ ..thought Wildstar grimly; _Soon...we'll be putting a stop to THAT... _

He looked at the readout again. _Sixteen point five, _he thought over the surge of the _Argo's _engines. _Soon..._

Earth began to loom large in the bridge windows. Both Derek Wildstar and Nova Forrester shivered inside as they realized that their blue Earth was a world that the _Argo_ herself would never, ever return to, and, if something went wrong, perhaps they would never return there either. But, the die was cast...and there was no other alternative.

Wildstar looked at a large, white cloud on the Earth's orb for a moment, and wondered if the ocean it was over was the Atlantic or the Pacific.

_Well, no time to wonder, now, _he thought as he tightened one hand around the arm of his chair, and placed his other hand near the autopilot. He was about to turn towards Nova when he noticed that the cloud seemed to be glowing.

No...it wasn't the cloud. It was a strange, beautiful golden glow appearing right before the _Argo._

"..._what?_" whispered Wildstar as the light filled the bridge.

"...Trelaina!" said Nova as she thought she recognized a human shape appearing in the light.

Then, something incredible happened. The _Argo's_ main screen, which they both thought was dead, suddenly came back to life again. On it appeared the form of Trelaina, holding a limp Mark Venture in her arms.

"Trelaina!" cried Nova in recognition as the image cleared.

"VENTURE!" yelled Wildstar in shock as he quickly cut all power to the engines, leaving the _Argo_ drifting slowly at exactly sixteen megameters' distance from Zordar's dreadnought.

"Wildstar," said Trelaina over the _Argo's _bridge speakers, which also resumed operation with a crackle, "..I have come to return Mark to you."

"How is he? Venture!" cried Wildstar towards the limp form.

"I have brought Mark back to life," replied Trelaina. "But, he needs more care. You must take him back to Earth for that. I've done all I can."

"But...Trelaina..." fumbled Wildstar.

"Trelaina.." asked Nova. "Can you take Mark back to Earth?"

"I can't," said Trelaina sadly. "It's not possible, Nova. Even with the power I have, I cannot go to your Earth. You must take him! He needs you! He is of the Earth...and I am not."

"No, Trelaina!" cried Wildstar. "Now that you've saved his life, you can't leave him!"

"Trelaina...you must know how much Mark loves you!" cried Nova.

"I know that...but I must give him back to you..."

Trelaina disappeared from the _Argo's _screen, only to reappear in a great blaze of light right in the middle of the bridge, still bearing Venture in her arms.

Wildstar and Nova left their posts and ran up towards both of them while Trelaina was lying Venture on the deck. "Please...take care of him," she intoned sadly.

Wildstar and Nova knelt before Venture and Trelaina, noticing that Mark was again breathing, but weakly.

"But...Trelaina," said Wildstar. "The ship isn't going back to Earth!"

"I know what you plan to do," replied Trelaina. "You need not sacrifice the _Argo._ I will fight Zordar."

"Trelaina!" protested Wildstar. "You've already done so much for us! You sacrificed your planet Telezart in order to stop Prince Zordar!"

"My work is not done. I must change the evil power of Prince Zordar," said Trelaina. "My love for Mark makes it more important than ever to save Earth. I wish I could explain more to you. There are great powers in the Universe, unknown and unseen. I am just one small part of that great life force, with my own destiny to fulfill. Earth can be the embodiment of good...but it must live on to fulfill that destiny."

"...Trelaina" said Wildstar in a choked-up voice.

"Derek," said Trelaina. "It is time for me to go. A part of me stays with Mark, and with you, and with Nova. And...with your dear Earth; the place where all that is good can live, and grow, and reach out to the Universe."

Trelaina raised her hands, and glowed brighter than ever with liberated energy as she began to fade from this plane of existence. "Goodbye...goodbye, Derek and Nova and please tell Mark how much _I LOVE HIM...,how much I love him...how much I.._." with her last words echoing with longing, love, and power as her form turned into an astral shape, and drifted out into space, surrounded by a globe of psi-energy, as it drifted away from the _Argo_, into the depths of space.

A stunned Wildstar looked on as he picked up Venture from the deck. He and Nova looked on in wonder, staring out into space towards Zordar's dreadnought, and wondering how, indeed, Trelaina would accomplish this final task.

* * *

**II. THE CHANGE**

**Space.**

**The Vicinity of Earth**

**November 15, 2201.**

**1053 Hours-Spacetime**

* * *

"Prince Zordar," said an officer on the bridge of his dreadnought. "Should we continue the bombardment?" 

"Yes, by all means," intoned the evil potentate as he looked on with a smile. "Are you targeting their accursed Megalopolis again?"

"Your highness," said another officer, "We were directing our fire towards the oceans, hoping that they might soon be convulsed with fear and send another surrender. Should we slacken our fire?"

"NOOO!" bellowed Zordar. "I have a plan in mind. Let them _tremble _at my power!"

An intercom speaker came on near Zordar's station. "Yes?" he hissed as he thumbed the control on.

"Prince Zordar," said a heavily accented...and hated voice from one of the dreadnought's navigation bridges.

"What do YOU want, Dyre?" murmured Zordar dangerously. "Didn't I tell you that you and your Princess have been relegated to minor tasks?"

"Prince Zordar...we have managed to scan the area to our stern."

"And?"

"We have spotted the _Argo_-at a far distance."

"What is the brave Star Force doing now?" mocked Zordar. "Aren't you aware that their ship was blasted into wreckage upon my personal orders?"

"Yes, and we are ready to turn our guns on her...but we are awaiting your orders. What should we do?" asked Dyre.

"_Nothing_!" bellowed Zordar with a mad smile as he began to laugh. "Controller, intensify the siege cannon's barrage!"

"Yessir," said a voice on the bridge as Dyre asked, "Sir, but _why...?_"

"Don't you know most of the crew abandoned ship? Whoever is left on board now must indeed be a group of insignificant and sentimental fools! They mean nothing to me now, Dyre; they're just as idiotic as you and Invidia!" roared Zordar through a mad laugh as the fire intensified, as per his orders. He continued laughing as he marched up to a viewport to enjoy the view. "Fools!" he yelled, while thumbing off the intercom switch. "All of you!"

Zordar was incredibly happy as he watched flower after flower of fire blossom on Earth. _Why am I giving you a brief reprieve, Star Force? _he thought. _WHY? It is because I want you and the others to SEE my power unveiled...before you're dealt with...forever!_

Some time passed. An officer then said, "Sir, I'm detecting an object leaving the ship."

"What sort of object?" boomed Zordar.

"Uncertain, sire. I think it's a destroyer. Deserters?"

"Perhaps," said Zordar, who guessed what was going on; and didn't care. "Fools," he said in a low voice. "Trying to run, hmh? I think not. I'll control this system shortly, and I can easily find you and have you brought back to face what you deserve, Dyre…Invidia…all of you…"

"Request permission to fire," said the officer.

"Denied. Leave them."

"Sir?"

"They're best left for another time. This is too _important _to miss," he said as the siege cannon fired, smashing into Earth yet again.

Zordar continued to laugh maniacally again as he watched the show. "FOOLS! You idiot Earthlings! NOW you'll know what FEAR is! HA ha, ha, ha, ha, ha HAAA!"

Zordar caught his breath and prepared to laugh again, but the laugh died in his throat as he looked back in the direction of space in which the _Argo _lay...and noticed a bright point of light appearing from nowhere.

The light intensified as Zordar looked on in utter horror._ What? HOW? _he thought._ We all but finished them off...how can they...have activated any of their weapons...how...?_

Then, the light faded. For a split-second Zordar thought that the _Argo's_ wave gun wasn't firing, after all, but, his momentarily relief turned to a worse, colder sort of fear as the light resolved into a form which Zordar dreaded far more than any mere space battleship or its worst attack.

"TRELAINA!" roared Zordar in a fearful voice as he looked at the massive, looming phantom of the mysterious woman of Telezart that he thought was dead.

"Zordar," said Trelaina's voice on the bridge. "I have come because you need me."

Zordar looked on in horror. "Cease Firing!" he screamed. "Reverse course IMMEDIATELY!"

The dreadnought, which had been facing towards Earth, turned hard about and began to roar away. Zordar was hoping to escape the dreaded ball of light that was Trelaina of Telezart.

But, Trelaina continued, relentlessly, to pursue Zordar.

"You need to learn, Zordar," she said. "A new way, another way!"

"Let me at the controls!" he screamed, shoving a hapless helmeted junior officer aside, with no trace of repentance in his heart...nothing but cold, unreasoning fear.

"You have misused your power!" intoned Trelaina. "I am here to return you to the Cosmos!"

Zordar looked up, noting that even at full speed, his ship could not escape from Trelaina and her cursed energy field, which swallowed up the ship like some terrible, living thing.

Prince Zordar had no time to reflect upon much of anything in his last moments. All that he could do was scream like an enraged animal.

Soon, Zordar's screams faded into nothingness as a mighty roar filled the ship. In a mere two seconds, Trelaina's mind-energy turned her semi-astral form and Zordar's dreadnought and crew into nothing. The ship dissolved like dust, and a mighty, pure-white explosion dispersed what was left into nothingness as, for a moment, a virtual new star erupted into being in Earth orbit...

...and then faded.

Zordar, at least in his physical essence, had indeed been changed...changed into impotent, harmless subatomic dust.

In his spiritual essence, too, Zordar had been changed, and immediately consigned to a fate far different than his self-proclaimed role as Lord of the Universe. The revelations that would await Zordar when he met Destiny face-to-face were to be more stunning than the manner of his physical end. However, as such matters are not within the province of this tale, they shall not be discussed here, except to state this:

Trelaina was correct. There were, indeed, great powers in the Universe, both unknown and unseen.

Let it simply be said that the demise of Zordar was noticed in many places, and at many times.

One of these places, of course, was on the bridge of the nearest ship; the space battleship _Argo._

Derek and Nova shielded their eyes with their arms as Trelaina accomplished her final task in this plane. Watching the holocaust, they trembled at the mighty forces Trelaina unleashed.

When it faded, tears filled both of their eyes.

"Goodbye, Trelaina," said Derek. "And, thank you. For everything. For saving Venture. For loving Earth so much! It's true we can't understand, " he said, bowing his head, "...but it's not important. Your love has saved Earth!"

Wildstar saluted Trelaina in honor while a trembling Nova held both hands over her heart. For a long time, both of them stood in silence.

But, finally, they knew there was more to be done.

"Nova," said Wildstar. "Secure Venture in his place with the warp restraints while I see if I can transmit from the command station."

"Roger," she said, in a shaky but controlled voice. "You're calling Earth, I presume?"

"Yes...we'll need landing clearance. But, I'm going to see if I can set the transmitter to a wide dispersion radius."

"Why?" asked Forrester as she began to lock Venture into place, checking his pulse for a moment. It was a little weak, but it was still there.

"I think we should let anyone who might be left alive on the outer bases...or in any patrol ships...know about the end of Zordar...and...maybe...if the message can be picked up...I think we deserve to let someone else know of the victory, as well...provided he's still in the solar system."

"Desslok?" asked Nova as she came up.

"Uh-huh," said Wildstar. "He did, after all, help us."

Nova nodded in assent. Together, both of them worked on the controls for the radio transmitter.

* * *

Below, on Earth, Earth Defense Headquarters was in chaos. 

"This is Sydney Command," said a voice from one of the damaged communications consoles in the Operations room. "We've taken heavy damage. Can you respond? Over."

"Sydney, this is Defense Headquarters, Great Island, Federal Megalopolis, Capital District, Palisades Circle. Lieutenant Pierson speaking. Can you change to visual?"

"Negative. We're too badly damaged."

"Just like us."

"How come you didn't come in?"

"Many people are dead, here, Sydney," said another voice behind Pierson.

"Sir!" said the speaker from Australia as soon as he recognized the voice of General Singleton, the dignified 52-year old Commanding General of the Earth Defense Forces. "They'd like to know what's happened."

"It's bad everywhere. Two hours ago, one of Zordar's bursts hit us point-blank. The burst ruined a large part of the Capital District, and we have taken some collateral damage."

"Our building's barely standing, sir. A lot of people here are dead," crackled the voice from Sydney.

"It's just as bad here," sighed the Commander. "A burst blew straight in through the outer wall of Operations, killing much of the ready crew at their consoles. I only have a skeleton crew working here, and we're patching a lot of our communications through the underground headquarters."

"We're on battery power, sir," said the Lieutenant. "Can you send aid?"

"We'll do what we can. I'm having a hard time establishing communications with the rest of Jamaica, Lieutenant."

"Yessir, we understand. I..."

"Lieutenant?" snapped Singleton.

"Sorry, sir...this wound in my side...it's bleeding pretty good," said the crackling voice as, in the background behind Singleton, a soot-covered nurse bleeding from a head wound took a deep breath to choke back her own sickness as she and a medic suddenly found the remains of an officer under a crushed console. "Getting kind of dizzy, sir...that's all. Should be on duty soon. Battery power's getting low. Sydney, signing off."

The signal faded with a blast of static as the Commander snapped, "Mister Pierson, try to raise them again. We need casualty figures."

"Yessir."

As the Commander through the debris, he noticed the nurse and medic moving the litter.

"How is that man?" he asked.

"Dead, sir," said the nurse with a shake of her head. Singleton noticed that her blackened tunic was torn in several places, and that her bloody right ankle was showing through the torn remnants of her boot, but she didn't seem to be aware of her own injuries. "Sir...I've never seen anything like this before...not here..."

"Neither have I..," replied the Commander softly. "Where did you come from?"

"Eighteenth floor infirmary. It was on fire a while ago. We put it out. Half the ready crew's dead."

"Do you know where General Stone is?"

"Negative, sir. We haven't seen him. Sir...permission to speak?"

"For a moment. What is it?"

"Have you heard from the Star Force? Surely Captain Wildstar must have something..."

"The _Argo_ was attacked a few hours ago by Zordar's ship. Since then, we've lost contact."

"I see, sir," said the nurse, fighting back tears. "Any orders?"

"Carry on. For as long as we can, until..."

"Until what, sir?"

"Until they send their fleet back," said Singleton softly.

"I see, sir," said the nurse as she heard someone else screaming in pain. "Private, get some help," she snapped. "Sir...as you tell...I'm needed elsewhere."

"Carry on, Lieutenant..."

"Lieutenant Howe, sir. I went to Iscandar with the Star Force in 2199."

"I see," said Singleton. "Carry on, Lieutenant Howe."

Lieutenant Tricia Howe nodded as she ran over to help the man who had cried out.

The Commander walked over to his post with a heavy heart as more reports of damage came in from other parts of the globe. At his post, Singleton shook his head in despair. The Star Force hadn't been heard from for hours, and, indeed, Earth hadn't been able to establish communications with anything beyond low orbit due to the intense atmospheric ionization caused by Zordar's repeated siege cannon barrages.

His efforts, his hopes that the Star Force would fight on were finally dashed when Zordar had left the _Argo_ a burning wreck, and when the last communication from the Star Force indicated that the _Argo_ was being abandoned.

_Star Force, you did all you could _he thought. _If you had prevailed, I would have seen to it that you were decorated many times over. But now...what will become of you? You'll eventually be captured...I guess...or fight on as partisans...but I'll never reveal your whereabouts to them. I..._

At Singleton's desk, a comm signal went off.

"Yes?" he said. "Is that YOU, Stone?" said Singleton in disbelief.

"It is. Commander," said Brigadier General Stone from what seemed like a great distance, "I've assumed command of the second ready crew in the underground city. We've noticed something."

"Yes?"

"Your scanners probably aren't working, and ours are working rather poorly, but we've just pieced together that four scanners detected a sudden surge of energy going entirely off the scale, near the last known location of the Comet Empire's battleship."

"...And?"

"After the surge faded, we noticed that the random fire from the ship came to a complete stop. What they've been telling us is hard to make out, but there was something about a woman's voice coming through somewhere under all of the interference."

"A woman's voice," said Singleton. "Trelaina? That's how all of this started."

"There's something else. After the energy surge faded, the Comet Empire battleship faded off every one of our sensors. We haven't been able to pick up any trace of it."

"None? It's gone?"

"Gone?" yelled a lieutenant below them.

"They're finished?" cried another officer. "YEAH! That means..."

"HOLD IT!" barked Singleton. "We don't know all the details, yet!" he said. "_Then_?" demanded the Commander, as he wiped some fresh sweat off his brow.

"We do have one object on our scanners," said Stone. "But...it's much smaller than Zordar's ship."

"Can you get a visual fix?"

"No. We have it on radar, and...sir...we're picking up a signal; voice-only, but a little fuzzy. We can make out words, and..."

"Stone?" asked the Commander as he fell silent.

"I'm patching this right through to you over the link," said Stone in an excited voice. "Sir, I think you will find this to be good news..."

The Commander listened as two circuits came up, with a loud hum, and then, through a lot of crackling interference, a familiar voice said, "This is a report to the Commander, the rest of the Earth Defense Command, should it be functioning, and any other Earth Defense units active outside of Area One, as well as to any other friendly forces who can receive this communication..."

"WILDSTAR!" yelled an officer at a console.

"He made it!" cried Howe, smiling for the first time in hours as her dirty, pony-tailed head came up.

"He was on the _Argo _all along!" someone else yelled. "He must have been planning some kind of last stand! Can we ask him what happened?"

"No, we only have one-way orbital communications at present," said the Commander.

"Gentlemen..." said Wildstar, "At approximately 1557 hours, Prince Zordar and his dreadnought were both neutralized and destroyed by a final, gallant sacrifice by Trelaina of Telezart, who has also, somehow, returned Lieutenant Commander Mark Venture to life and has returned him to us. I was about to send the _Argo _on a collision course with Zordar's ship when I learned that Lieutenant Nova Forrester had remained aboard to assist me. It is my request that she should be commended for her bravery in volunteering to assist me in this final run upon the dreadnought, which was to have ended, hopefully, with our escape. However, this course of action became unnecessary when Trelaina appeared on the _Argo,_ returned Venture to us, and then left to fight Zordar herself. She won, at the cost of her life. All of Earth should join in thanking her for her great love."

"Further, others aided us in our effort to stop Zordar. Many members of the Star Force were either killed or injured in our defeat and destruction of the Comet Empire City before the emergence of the dreadnought from its ruins. Further, we owe our thanks to Admiral Gideon, Captain of the _Andromeda, _who advised us to attack the Empire City at the bottom before he died bravely in action. We also owe many words of thanks to Leader Desslok of the Gamilons, who unexpectedly decided to cease his war of vengeance against the Star Force and Earth at the last possible moment, and, instead, also advised us to attack the Comet Empire City at its weak point at the bottom. He has left in peace, and, we wish to inform him that there is no further quarrel between us."

Wildstar paused before continuing. "Lieutenant Forrester has informed me that the _Argo's_ flight recorder, which was still functioning, picked up a full record of Zordar's demise in spite of heavy damage to the ship. We wish to request landing clearance at any working base within the vicinity of the Megalopolis, and we also request medical assistance for Lieutenant Commander Venture, who is alive but comatose. _Argo_, signing off..."

The remaining officers in Operations began to applaud. The Commander stifled their applause with a wave of his hand, and said, "General Stone, is there some way you can transmit a reply to the _Argo_?"

"One of our fighter bases is semi-intact, and can transmit a reply if I relay it by telephone."

"Very good. Find a working landing pad near the city, and direct the _Argo _to it. Was Central Hospital damaged?"

"It was near one of the undamaged areas, sir," said Stone. "I've received reports that surviving members of the Star Force are already at the hospital being treated."

"Send a medical team to the landing pad."

"Yessir," said Stone. "Sir. I've just been informed that there's one working landing pad at the Cliffside Space Naval Yard. It's just big enough to accommodate the _Argo_."

"Pad Number?"

"Twelve, sir."

"Stone, assume command. Make certain the _Argo_ is directed to Pad Twelve at Cliffside. I'm going to be there. In the meantime, contact all surviving members of the Defense Council whose whereabouts are known. We'll need to meet tonight but the damage is too severe to hold the conference here. Is the Presidential residence undamaged?"

"Yessir...it is."

"General, inform the Defense Council that a briefing will be held tonight at 2100 Hours at the Presidential residence. I'm going to make certain that Wildstar, Forrester, and that flight recorder tape are present."

"Yessir. And you?"

"As I said, I'll be there when the _Argo_ lands...to extend my thanks to Wildstar. That will be all."

"Yessir," said Stone.

* * *

"Do you think they received the message?" asked Nova. "No one's replied yet." 

"I hope so," said Derek, looking down at the fading fires and plumes of smoke from Zordar's bombardment, which were still visible, even from this distance. "Look at what Zordar did to the planet," he whispered in awe and anger.

Suddenly, the speaker squawked. "Star Force, please acknowledge."

"This is the _Argo,_" said Wildstar. "Go ahead."

"Star Force," said the anonymous voice. "The Defense Command has received your message, and wishes to extend its congratulations to you for the news you have brought and your role in the apparent victory. However, we have a request. Have you spotted any remnants of Cometine forces from the city or the fleet that flew over the Megalopolis on 6 November? Over."

Wildstar glanced at Nova, who shook her head.

"No, I'm afraid we haven't," said Wildstar.

"Then, proceed with all due caution. You are granted landing clearance; on course vector PXT-122-A. You are directed to proceed directly to Landing Pad Number Twelve at the Cliffside Space Naval Yard. Be advised that visibility is poor due to continued fires in the capital. Again, our thanks. Please acknowledge."

"This is the _Argo_," said Wildstar. "Acknowledged. Expect our arrival. Regards, Wildstar, Acting Captain of the _Argo _and Deputy Captain of the Star Force."

At that, the transmission faded.

"Nova," said Derek. "Let's go home."

Nova Forrester nodded.

The battered_ Argo _turned, and began to head down on its given course towards Earth.

The Gamilon Fleet was now well outside the solar system. From Carrier Number Two, also known as the _Eliasite_, after one of the Gamilon Empire's major battles, Leader Desslok was exerting his command presence until he could transfer to another ship. He didn't find the mundane tri-deck carrier to his liking, but he lived with it.

He was sitting in his stateroom in silence, pondering quietly over his next course of action when his intercom beeped.

"Yes?" he said in his mellifluous voice.

"Leader Desslok, this is Talan. I have two messages to report."

"Enter," said Desslok as he poured a glass of wine in order to collect his thoughts.

"Yes?" he said.

"There are two reports," said Talan. "The first comes from the crew of the battleship _Paravenia_. She returned with the picket vessels you recalled from the battle area near Earth. As you know, before the battle, you had placed picket ships at strategic points to report on the _Argo's _presence should she try to make a break for it. The pickets are just making their rendezvous with us now. "

"And?"

"To begin with, Captain Vorkil is pleased to report that he was able to send a damage control crew aboard your former flagship, the _Gamilstadt, _which, as you know, we abandoned after our battle with the Star Force. Most of the fires had died out of their own accord; their men were able to deal with the rest. Although it was hazardous, they were able to take your former flagship in tow, where they now have it. They think salvage efforts may be workable, although they note that parts of the _Gamilstadt's _plating seem to have been stripped near the area where the _Argo _collided with her."

Desslok simply chuckled ironically. "I don't begrudge them that."

"Sir?" said Talan with wide eyes.

"I don't begrudge some surplus materiel to the Star Force. They needed that to repair their ship, no doubt. I wonder how they fared against Zordar?"

"That was the second subject of my message, sir," said Talan. "A short while ago, the commander of destroyer _Z-128 _reported seeing a bright flare of light at extreme range on his sensors. When magnified, it appeared to be, per his report, the Comet Empire City aflame."

Desslok smiled at this news. "And?"

"He reported seeing another blast shortly afterwards. Then, they picked up a bit of the following message, apparently from Captain Wildstar to the Earth Defense Command. Permit me to read it. It reads:

"... we owe our thanks to Admiral Gideon, Captain of the_ Andromeda,_ who advised us to attack the Empire City at the bottom before he died bravely in action. We also owe many words of thanks to Leader Desslok of the Gamilons, who unexpectedly decided to cease his war of vengeance against the Star Force and Earth at the last possible moment, and, instead, also advised us to attack the Comet Empire City at its weak point at the bottom. He has left in peace, and, we wish to inform him that there is no further quarrel between us..."

"Was there any more?" asked Desslok.

"No, but they did report that many messages were intercepted from Earth regarding Trelaina...before, of course, they were recalled."

"I wonder what Trelaina had to do with this?" mused Desslok. "At any rate, Talan, our fleet is accounted for?"

Talan nodded.

"Talan, take some wine. I need to drink a toast with you."

"Sir?"

"My orders, Talan."

Mystified, Talan found a spare glass and poured himself some. Then, he stood holding the goblet, wondering what Desslok would propose next.

At that, Desslok raised his glass in salute. "Talan, I would like to drink, now, to the Star Force. They won, with the aid of my advice...as I expected they would," he said with an ironic smile.

"We are drinking...to the _Star Force_, sir?"

"To their health...and the hope we may meet again, some day, as I told the young woman."

"Of course, sir," said Talan.

Desslok and Talan drank. Then, Talan said, "Sir, your orders?"

"Is my flagship securely in tow?"

"It is."

"Very well. It is my understanding that we re-established contact with a dockyard near our old Fifth Defense Line beyond this galaxy?"

"We did, sir, shortly after we parted ways with Zordar and the Comet Empire. They promised to send reinforcements..."

"Which have not arrived. Where was the dockyard located?"

"At Garalenda, sir. It's a small, desolate planet, rather like Pluto. The other dockyard we contacted was at Miralden, sir, near the Third Line, past Balan."

"We will make our way to Garalenda," said Desslok. "Given that my flagship is being towed, I expect it will take a while. At Garalenda, we will complete the repairs to my flagship, which shall commence now, as we are underway. Then, we will head for Miralden, and gather up any other useful units and personnel available at either of those facilities. And them..."

"Sir?"

"Then, I will decide our new course of action."

"Yessir," said Talan. He raised his hand in salute. Desslok returned the salute and said, "Talan, we will speak further at a later time. In a few days..."

"Yessir?"

"...I will speak to the troops. Then, I expect that my course of action will be clearer."

"Of course, sir."

At that, Talan left.

* * *

**III. HOME**

**Earth**

**The Federal Megalopolis**

**Cliffside Space Naval Station**

**November 15, 2201**

**1632 Hours--Spacetime**

* * *

Dusk was falling over the Megalopolis, which was still burning, as General Singleton arrived at the area around Landing Pad Number 12, only to find that it was sheer pandemonium. 

Apparently, some leak had taken place. Crowds of reporters had formed a gauntlet around the pad, just barely kept back by a cordon of Space Marines, some of whom were working to keep back the crowds of civilians behind the reporters.

"Sir," said an aide to Singleton. "This is utter chaos."

"Nonetheless, I still must get in there," said the Commander as he stepped from his staff aircar.

"How did this damn circus happen?" asked another aide. "What right do they have to harangue you like that?" he asked as several aides surrounded the Commander to keep the press back.

"Listen, don't you see they need hope?" roared Singleton. "To them, the Star Force symbolizes hope. Thanks to them, and thanks to Trelaina, we have that hope again. Can you blame them for wanting to know, even if I can't answer for security reasons...?"

At that, a few reporters got free and ran up to Singleton with their microphones.

"Sir, is the Star Force's arrival truly imminent?"

"Commander, are there any truths to the rumor that the Government has just stepped down?"

"What is being done to avert panic in the city and surrounding counties?"

"Is Captain Wildstar being presented the Sunburst of Honor at this time?"

"Sir, is it true you're here to arrest Wildstar for his disobedience of orders this morning near sunrise when he attacked the Empire City?"

"No comment at this time," said one of the Commander's aides. "The Commanding General is only present to greet the..."

"There she is!" yelled a civilian.

"What?" cried a reporter.

"I see the _Argo_...look!" yelled another member of the press.

At that, all eyes turned upwards, along with the reporters' video cameras. A mighty roar was coming up in the dusk as a dot far off in the sky began to appear through a pall of smoke from part of the city. Slowly, the dot took shape, just as it was noticed that it had wings.

The crowd hushed as the roar grew louder. Slowly, the shape of a battered space battleship with a blue topside and bright red underbelly appeared in the darkening sky, with a few, only a few of her running lights working.

The crowd began to cheer as the ship slowed, and began to drop down towards the pad on her thrusters. Then, some of the cheering stopped when the full extent of the _Argo's _damage became visible. The cheers turned to sighs of awe, and quite a few of the EDF officers and men present stopped at their tasks to look up at the battered old warrior. One saluted, followed by another, and followed by others.

Finally, even the Commander stopped what he was doing. In a brisk, ceremonial fashion, he raised his hand in salute, and many of the people nearby applauded again as he went up inside the landing terminal under the pad.

In the terminal, hordes of reporters had set up their ambushes near the end of the egress tunnel near the counter. The counter area, normally staffed with spaceport officials and security personnel, was vacant except for a few Space Marines standing near the egress hatch.

The wait seemed to be quite long, until someone noticed the egress hatch sliding open. It opened, and, a moment later, a team of medics raced up from nowhere, one of them pushing a litter.

A moment later, many video camera lights went on, and flash after flash went off as Wildstar and Forrester appeared in the egress hatch. Derek was carrying Venture, and Nova was carrying a small bag by a drawstring over her shoulder; both of them looked a little stunned at the crowd and all of the questions being shouted at them.

Unexpectedly, a short little Asian man in a white Medical uniform ran up and screamed in a high voice, "Hold the questions, damnit! Hold all the questions until they at least put Venture down on something!"

"Who are YOU?" yelled a reporter.

"Sakezo Sane, Chief Medical Officer of the Star Force!" he yelled. "Can't you see that we have a sick man here in need of medical care?"

Still, the cameras went off as Wildstar, helped by Nova and a medic, lowered Venture down onto the waiting litter. After the silence, a few more reporters shouted questions, until they were stilled by another raised hand as the Commander of the Earth Defense Forces appeared.

Wildstar, Nova, Dr. Sane, and all of the other EDF personnel present saluted the Commander as he walked up. Singleton returned the salutes as he walked up towards Wildstar.

"Commander," he said to Wildstar as he extended his hand in greeting. "You, Lieutenant Forrester, and Lieutenant Commander Venture have the thanks of all of Earth tonight. Without your bravery this morning, all of us might now be on our way to concentration camps established by Prince Zordar and his generals. All of us owe you a great debt."

"Thank you, sir," said Wildstar and Nova in unison.

"What were you planning to do, Wildstar?" asked Dr. Sane.

"Yes, what WERE you planning?" yelled a reporter who shoved a microphone into Wildstar's face.

"I'm not sure this is the time or place to comment on their mission objectives," said Singleton. "Isn't it enough to know that the Comet Empire's space warship was defeated?"

In defiance of the Commander, the press shouted more questions in their direction, until Singleton snapped, "Enough for now! These two have to get their comrade to the hospital, and then they are to appear before the Council for a debriefing at 2100 tonight at the Presidential residence."

"Will it be carried live?" demanded a reporter.

"Good God, NO!" snapped Singleton. "They should be ready to meet the press tomorrow," said the Commander.

Outside, an ambulance backed up to the courtyard before the landing gate for Venture. Again, Wildstar and Nova worked to help the medics get Venture on board. Looking to the Commander for permission to leave, he nodded, and they followed Venture and Dr. Sane into the ambulance.

"He's going to need a stimulant!" yelled Dr. Sane inside the ambulance as the doors shut out the noise and applause from the crowd. "Nova, help this man get it running!"

"Yes, doctor," said Nova, who, for the first time, was betraying a hint of tiredness in the stoop of her shoulders. She set the IV, and then looked at Wildstar and yawned.

"How long have you been up?" whispered Derek.

"Since 0100 yesterday morning...," said Nova. "I was able to get some rest before we took off to attack the Comet Empire City. I've had enough sleep."

"You don't look like it," he said as the ambulance took off. "Nova, how much sleep did you get when I was out in Sickbay after you took me off Desslok's ship?"

"She only slept for about an hour or two that night, right near your bedside in a chair." sniffed Doctor Sane. "That was almost two days ago, young lady," snorted Sane. "No one can go without sleep that long."

"We had jobs to do," said Nova. "You know that."

"When did you two sleep before that?" challenged Sane.

"The night of November 12th, when we were trying to catch up with the Comet Empire," said Nova. "At least that's how much I got. I don't know about Derek." Forrester paused for a moment to connect a sensor array to Venture. "The unit's working, Doctor. Venture's heart rate has stabilized a bit, and I have more to do. Derek, do you see that hatch to your left?"

Wildstar nodded.

"Open it. You'll find a blue bag in there. It's an airway kit," yawned Nova. "We're going to need it in case Mark's respiratory rate or oxygen-blood gas level goes down too much."

Wildstar nodded as he got the kit. Doctor Sane said, "You two are incredible, with your lack of sleep and rest," as he prepared a syringe.

"Why does this matter now, Doctor?" demanded Wildstar as the ambulance leaned into a turn.

"It's important. It's a matter of your _health!_" barked Doctor Sane. "How much sleep did YOU get over the past few days?" demanded Dr. Sane as he prepped his syringe as the ambulance sped through town.

"A bit more," said Wildstar.

"Not enough!" he said. "I prescribe sleep for both of you after the Defense Council gets through with you, and some rest when we get to the Hospital."

"Don't we have to help you with Mark?" asked Nova.

"I have enough nurses and medics there to assist me, Nova," snapped Doctor Sane. "With all respect, you've done more than enough nursing in the past couple of days! If they give out medals for young nurses who keep on working with drooping eyelids, you'd be the first one in line," said Sane.

"I'm sure there's people awake who have been doing more than me, especially in Headquarters and the city, and I'm sure they've been doing it while injured," said Nova. "We'd better keep our minds on our work. God knows Mark's going to need a lot of care to be stabilized, let alone brought around again."

"Hold on!" yelled a medic. "The ambulance is coming to a stop now!"

"You two are ridiculous," said Dr. Sane. "Both of you need REST!"

They braced themselves as the vehicle stopped. "Doctor," said Nova. "Please! Let me get a cup of coffee, and then I'll help you with Mark until it's time for the Defense Council to debrief us."

"Why don't you want to find a couch and get some sleep?"

"Because I'm a working girl, Doctor!" snapped Nova. "I don't need beauty naps."

"Doctor, I think she should do anything that'll keep her busy for a bit if she wants to," said Wildstar. "We'll _both_ have to be awake to talk to the Defense Council, you know. Where are you putting Venture?"

"Intensive Care, I'd guess," said Nova.

Doctor Sane nodded at that. "That's right...intensive care for this patient."

"Okay. I'll be waiting in the lounge," said Wildstar as they came out of the ambulance, to a few more reporters. They waved them off, and went inside the hospital, guarded by a cordon of Space Marines.

Wildstar took his place inside the visitors' waiting area for the Intensive Care Unit. A few others were sitting in the area, reading magazines, talking, and that sort of thing. Derek guessed that they were so involved with their loved ones that they didn't recognize him. Of course, he thought, maybe the green fatigue jacket that a friendly Marine had thrown to him in order to help disguise the upper half of his Star Force uniform from the reporters didn't hurt, either.

Wildstar's hair was hanging in his face, and he was beginning to look tired as he paged through an aerospace magazine that someone had left on a side table near a couch. He jumped a little as someone tapped his arm.

"Excuse me," said a soft voice, "Mind if I get you some coffee?"

Wildstar looked down at the figure's feet, clad in white boots, and when looking up, realized he was looking at a young woman in a nurse's tunic. He almost muttered, "Hi, Nova," until he caught a glimpse of the girl's hair and realized she had dark brown hair.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Tired."

"You look it, sir," said the girl. "Duty in the city?"

"You could say that," said Wildstar, relieved that his cover wasn't about to be blown.

"C'mon," she said, taking his hand unexpectedly. "You're tired...you want someone to buy you some coffee...well...I'm on break...at least until they need someone in Suite Five...I'll take you to the snack bar, and..."

"Not a good idea," muttered Wildstar.

"Why?"

"Uhh...my _fiancé' _would mind, I think," said Wildstar, still trying to get used to the idea that he wasn't officially alone in the world any longer.

"Is she a patient?"

"No...she's a nurse here...part of the time, although..."

The girl looked down at Wildstar's pants cuffs in their red and white glory and suddenly said, "Ohhhh! I see! Fiancé', huh?" she said. "Good for you. Okay, I'll buy you some coffee from that vending machine. Got any change?"

"Well...," said Wildstar as he patted at the pockets of the borrowed fatigue jacket. "Actually...uhh...I'm broke."

"No sweat...I'll buy it," said the persistent nurse. "Oh, my name's Natalie. Natalie Fisher, sir. Nursing officer, Junior Lieutenant. Let me get you that coffee, okay?"

"Right."

Natalie went over to the machine and got some coffee. "By the way," she whispered conspiratorially as she came back. "Is your fiancée' blonde?"

"Yeah..."

"Does she have an accent sort of like mine?"

"Western or Midwestern U.S.? I guess."

"Think I know her, then," said Natalie as she handed him the paper cup of coffee. "See you later, sir," she said. "Oh. One last thing. You ARE engaged?"

"Yeah..." said Wildstar, who was getting a little annoyed at this Lieutenant's nosiness.

"If we're thinking of the same person, she'll be really happy...and so will I."

"Why?"

"It'll FINALLY shut her up! She's been _hoping_ you'd pop the question for over a year now! See you later, sir."

"Where do they get these junior officers FROM?" muttered Wildstar as Natalie left.

Wildstar sat waiting for quite a while. He lost all track of time as he lost himself in yet another magazine, this one having an article about the upgrade program for the Type 100 Astro Fox recon plane. The article ended with the notion that the Type 100's future was both unknown and uncertain.

_Like that of the Argo?_ thought Wildstar to himself. _I hope they repair her again, and don't go back to the notion of turning her into a machine...not after all we've been through... _

At that, the lights flickered once in the hospital...once...twice...and then, they came back on again.

Wildstar looked up, wondering what was going on, when he noticed a middle-aged man in a dark brown jacket and turtleneck approaching, followed closely by a rather thin middle-aged woman in a green turtleneck, blue miniskirt, and black boots. They were followed by a young eleven-year old boy in a green and yellow top and green slacks.

"Excuse me," asked the woman, as she looked at Wildstar, who had his head turned into the magazine. "You're with the Star Force; aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," said Wildstar, who turned his head from the magazine to face the woman. Guessing she wasn't a reporter, he said, "I'm Derek Wildstar; the Acting Captain of the _Argo_ and Deputy Captain of the Star Force..."

"You're Wildstar?" asked the man.

"Yes..."

"Well...would you know anything about the condition of Mark Venture?" asked the woman. "You see...I'm his mother...and..."

"Mrs. Venture?" said Wildstar. "I take it," he said, looking at the older man, "that...you're his father."

"Yes, Captain," said the man, who came forward. "My name's David Venture...this is my wife, Carol...and our younger son, Jordy. How's our son?"

"He was brought here in critical condition." said Wildstar as a few of the others in the room happened to notice him at last, and quite a few faces turned towards him. "Right now, a number of our best surgeons and nurses are in there working on your son."

"How was he injured?" asked Carol shakily.

"He was injured in one of the battles we had a few days ago while attempting to protect another member of my crew," said Wildstar. "It was a very brave deed, and I've recommended him for a number of decorations because of it. Your son is a very highly valued member of the Star Force...and one of my closest friends. I'm sure he'll be fine..."

Carol Venture nodded once, with tears in her eyes, while Jordy said, "You're sure my big brother will be all right?"

"He's in very good hands," said Wildstar, not sure what else to say, as he didn't know what was going on in the operating room. "I'm sure they'll do all they can for him.."

"Thank you, Captain," said David Venture with a visibly choked-up voice. "I guess all we can do is..."

"Where IS she?" demanded a hysterical woman's voice from outside in what was almost a scream.

"Teri...I'm sure she's okay..."

"But where IS she?" demanded the voice again as its owner came into view before Wildstar and the Venture family. It belonged to a woman who seemed to be a little more expensively dressed than Carol Venture. She was in a pale pink pantsuit, with black boots and a string of pearls around her neck. She wore her hair in a bun similar to Mrs. Venture's, but it was a lighter shade of brown, and her eyes were quite a bit darker. They were also streaked with quite a bit of mascara, as she was crying.

"I've been trying to tell you...Teri," said the man in a dark blue suit and white turtleneck who was following her, "...our neighbor said that she was just fine. He saw her for a moment on the video report."

"But I've got to see her myself! What if she was hurt in this terrible war?" cried the woman.

"Ma'am," said Wildstar as he got up. "If I'm not intruding, can I possibly help you?"

"Who is he?" demanded the woman in a distraught manner as she turned towards Carol Venture.

"Well...he's...," began Carol, but she was cut off by another voice.

"He's just the man I care for, Mother," said Nova as she entered the room herself, gently pushing her way past her mother. Wildstar noticed that she looked somewhat mussed up and was still in her black -on- gold Star Force uniform, and not in a nurses' tunic.

"Nova...you're ALL RIGHT!" cried Teri Forrester very loudly as she threw her arms around her daughter and began to weep hysterically.

"Yes...I'm fine."

"I was worried SICK!" wept Teri. "You wouldn't know how much I was worrying about you...I was afraid that you'd be thrown in jail when you got back...all because of that awful mutiny you were involved in, and..."

"Mother, I went with them of my own free will," said Nova proudly. "As a matter of fact, Derek opposed my being on the ship at first!" said Lieutenant Forrester as she looked at Wildstar.

"How's Mark doing?" he asked. "His family's here."

"Mother...Father...we'll talk in a moment," said Nova softly but firmly. "Derek...Mark's still unconscious, but he's stable. You're his parents?" asked Nova.

"Yes," said Carol Venture with tears in her eyes.

"The doctor will be out soon to talk with you. Mark's going to be here for a while; and maybe the doctor'll let you see him later tonight, if it helps. He's very brave..," said Nova softly. "Especially because he was trying to save me from enemy fire. Your son's a dear friend to both Captain Wildstar and myself, and a very good officer." .

"Whose decision was it to fight on for Earth like that?" asked David Venture in a husky voice.

"Mine," said Wildstar softly.

"Well...," said Karl Forrester as he gently took his wife's hands and motioned her aside slightly, "...you have the thanks of everyone on Earth, myself included. I take it you're Captain Wildstar?"

"Yes, sir...I am...I'm only the Acting Captain of the _Argo. _I haven't officially been promoted yet."

"Well, my daughter Nova's had nothing but good to say about you for the past year," said Mr. Forrester. "She's a very lucky young woman, Captain. We're staying in temporary quarters in the underground city right now, since we don't know what sort of condition our house is in, but you can reach me at my office. I work at a law firm in the city, and the office wasn't hit." Karl took a business card out of his jacket and hastily scribbled a number on the back. "That's our current home number. I'd like to have you and Nova come over for some Thanksgiving dinner on the twenty-sixth for the local holiday, if they give you leave."

"Of course. They give us leave for local holidays like that," said Wildstar. "We'll be honored."

"Derek...they'll want us at the Presidential Residence for the briefing by 2100," said Nova. "Even though I'm not sure how we're going to get there, of course..."

"How are the others doing?" he asked as they left.

"Fine. Are YOU okay?" asked Nova.

"Yeah...tired," said Wildstar. "Why do you ask?"

"I sent my friend Natalie out to check on you before. I was relieved when she said you seemed all right."

"Is her last name Fisher?" asked Wildstar as they entered an elevator.

"Yes, it is."

"She's a friend of yours?" asked Derek, who suddenly wasn't surprised.

"Yes, Derek. I've known her since my childhood in Boulder, Colorado."

"That would explain a lot," chuckled Wildstar.

"What do you mean?"

"Well...she was asking a lot of questions...that's all. By the way...between us, how IS Mark?"

"It was touch and go for a while," sighed Nova. "But...we do have him stabilized...for now."

"For now?"

"Well...we're not sure when he's going to come out of the coma..," said Nova. "Our scans showed a lot of neurological damage," she said quietly.

"I see," sighed Wildstar. "Well...let's get ready to go to Headquarters," he said as the doors of the elevator opened.

They emerged into the hospital lobby...into a snake pit of reporters. Questions were shouted at them left and right, but Wildstar's response was, remembering the Commander's implicit request that he not speak to the press before the briefing, simply variations on "no comment," repeated over and over again. It went on like that until they were met at the door by four Space Marines, who walked the somewhat dazed couple to a staff car that was waiting for them outside in the plaza in front of Central Hospital.

They were in the car and on their way before they could react. "Sir," said an enlisted orderly, sitting next to Wildstar. "They told me to issue both of you new peacoats...I hope they fit."

"Thanks, Corporal," said Wildstar as he shrugged out of his borrowed Marine coat and shrugged into the pro-offered blue, red, and gold peacoat, which, he noticed, had the number "3" sewn on one sleeve. The jacket that Nova was struggling into had the same marking on her sleeve.

"I see that you guys didn't miss a trick," said Wildstar with a slight grin.

"No, sir," said the Corporal. "The paperwork we were given indicated that you two were to be issued these coats due to the _Argo's _prior posting as flagship of the Third Interplanetary Patrol Squadron of the Earth Defense Forces. That was still your official unit designation at the time of your departure, even though the Commander detached the _Argo _and the Star Force from your normal assignments to operate under his command. Is it correct, sir?" asked the Corporal.

"Yes, it is. When we left, I still had the number "15" on my coat, but we changed it right before arriving on Saturn-Titan due to information we received in a text-only dispatch from Admiral Gideon before I met with him in the command briefing on the eighteenth. It's nice to see that someone's keeping tab of these things, even in all this confusion," he said as he looked through the smoked car windows at the fires still burning in the city.

"Thank you, sir," said the Corporal as the car sped on towards its destination.

* * *

**IV. BRIEFING & AFTERMATH**

**Earth**

**Federal Megalopolis**

**Presidential Residence**

**November 16, 2201**

**0238 Hours--Eastern Standard Time**

* * *

"So THAT'S how you justify your actions?" barked Dr. Piper Sandberg, who was the disdainful head of the Defense Council's Xeno-Cultural Bureau, well-remembered by Derek Wildstar as the man who had mockingly called the Star Force "a chivalrous outfit" a few weeks ago during the Defense Council meeting where he had been denied permission to take the _Argo _out again to investigate the mystery of Trelaina and the White Comet. "You're like others who have acted dubiously as of late." 

"Sir, we've discussed the justification of our actions with you and the rest of the Council for the past four hours, with all due respect," said Wildstar as he and Nova sat at the Defense Council's meeting table in a secure lower level of the vast Presidential Residence in the same place where the Cabinet usually met, and had last met on the evening before the beginning of the battle of Saturn-Titan just a few days ago. The Council was meeting there because its usual meeting room in Defense Headquarters was unavailable due to damage to the building. "We were out of touch with the Defense Command due to damage we sustained at Saturn-Titan. We were one of the few remaining Defense Force vessels. When we heard that Earth had surrendered, we determined that we had to do everything we could to stop Zordar, or die trying."

"But we understand you disobeyed orders," said Lt. General Dean H. Weller, the EDF's Chief of Staff. "For that insubordination, you'd be court-martialed if it was my decision. Orders must be obeyed, boy!"

"Orders that I advised against sending because I knew of their determination to defend Earth," said Singleton.

"Orders you knew they wouldn't obey, sir?" asked Lt. General Hidalgo Camacho, the Chief of Logistics.

"Orders, thank God, that they wouldn't have obeyed," said Singleton, after which the Council fell silent for a moment, with some uncomfortably taking puffs from their cigarettes. An orderly brought Wildstar a cup of water during the uncomfortable pause.

"Orders," said Brigadier General Franz Kohler, the Chief of Intelligence, in a rhetorical tone. "When is it best not to obey orders? When Earth is threatened? When these orders seem mindless, even heartless?"

"Sir, our orders have NOT been heartless," said Lt. General William F. Weiner, the Military Attaché to the Senate Armed Services Committee. "They've been well-reasoned. The unavoidable fact that one can't escape is that there has been a pattern of breaches of regulation and custom all around in this crisis, straight back to General Charles Singleton's dubious reactivation of your outfit under his command authority in the first place without our input."

"My actions, General, were justified under the emergency circumstances, You _know_ that" said Singleton in a low voice.

"As were Admiral Gideon's actions in assembling the Fleet at Titan like lambs for Zordar's slaughter?" asked Weiner. "Actions you failed to reprimand by relieving him?"

"I ask again;" said Kohler slowly and with emphasis. "Are not some orders worth disobeying in some circumstances? Especially when they seem ill-reasoned and heartless?"

At the head of the smoke-filled room, President James R. Mendellsohn listened to the long presentation and argument in silence, save for a few occasional questions. He was still silent as Sandberg answered Kohler by saying, "Our orders haven't been heartless! They've been in the best interests of Earth; and not the decisions of some chivalrous space cowboy or group of cowboys acting on the spur of the moment," snapped Sandberg.

"Then, sir, why did we LOSE at Saturn-Titan?" demanded Michael Dentmann, the Undersecretary to the Defense Minister. "Maybe it's because no one planned for the possibility that something much larger than a fleet would come in and rip your computerized flying wonders to shreds!"

"There was nothing wrong with the automated systems...at least, not so far as I know!" protested Brian Paulson, the Minister of Science.

"That's irrelevant to this discussion," snapped Dentmann. "Deputy Captain Wildstar, _you _were there...not Dr. Paulson! In your opinion, and in brief, why did we lose the Fleet at Saturn-Titan?"

"Sir," said Wildstar, "Perhaps it was because Admiral Gideon didn't or couldn't take into account the entire strategic situation. In his last moments, he called us and informed us to attack the Empire City at the bottom; that was a piece of strategic information he hadn't been aware of until near the end of the battle."

"Why, in your opinion, didn't he act upon it beforehand?" questioned Stone.

"He probably hadn't noticed it until after the _Andromeda _was already damaged. We could hear that in his transmission. He passed on this knowledge to us in the hope that we could continue fighting on after his death."

"You took this as a mandate from Gideon, I presume?" asked Singleton.

"Yessir. Or, at least, as good advice."

"Commendable," said Singleton to black looks from a few other members of the Council.

"So, as to your decision?" asked Sandberg.

"Sir, all in all, we feel we were justified in our actions," said Wildstar.

"If we hadn't stopped the Comet Empire, today, would you be sitting here with the freedom to conduct any briefings, gentlemen?" asked Forrester respectfully.

"Don't you take that tone with me, girl," hissed Sandberg. "After all..."

"As you were about to say...She's only a woman?" barked General Staci Willis. "Does it insult you that much to know she's RIGHT?"

"That's enough, BOTH of you!" snapped Mendellsohn. "It's been a long meeting, ladies and gentlemen, but you must remember who's at the head of the table."

"Yes, of course," said both Sandberg and Willis with nods of apology to the President.

"Sir," said Singleton as he stood, turning to the President. "Is there anything you'd like to add to this?"

"Commander," said Mendellsohn calmly. "After we disband, I intend to sign an Executive Order granting the Star Force a Presidential Unit Citation for its actions against the Comet Empire, dating from September, up until this afternoon. I will also sign a second Executive Order authorizing the award of the Sunburst of Honor to Lieutenant Commander Wildstar, and Lieutenant Commanders Venture and Sandor, as well as to Lieutenant Forrester, for their roles in this action. I will also recommend the posthumous award of a Sunburst of Honor to Sergeant Major Webb Knox of the Brumus Marine Detachment for his role in this operation, particularly in light of Lieutenant Forrester's story of his return to the _Argo, _even though mortally wounded, and his determination to keep on fighting to his last breath. I intend to take other actions, as appropriate, but, ladies and gentlemen, I would advise you never to forget the valor of these young men and women. I wish we had MORE in the Defense Forces like them."

Mendellsohn paused. "For my part, it is my wish that you will take formal action to do all you can to make certain that this battered, but brave group of Star Blazers and others with their sprit are never again placed in a position where they must risk their careers in order to defend the peace of Earth. I would advise you to cast any petty thoughts in regard to this matter out of your minds. We must move on. We must rebuild and begin to order the new peace that Wildstar and his comrades have granted us. It is my request that you do all you can to ensure that there will always be a Star Force for us to count on. The sacrifice and honor we have heard about tonight should remind us that we must not only think of the children of Earth; we must also think of their freedom. The Star Force has taught me that hope should not be based only on life alone, but life as free men and women."

"Had I known," said the President with a bowed head, "when I spoke to Parliament on the ninth, after Zordar melted the surface of the moon, that the Star Force still existed and was willing to fight, I never would have advised Parliament to vote in favor of surrender. In light of these events, I must ask your forgiveness...and then, in the next few weeks, I would ask you to forgive yourselves, and then ask for forgiveness from the people of Earth...and from the survivors of the _Argo; _the only surviving persons in our military establishment that I feel have no need of asking anyone's forgiveness. Only they can leave this room with their heads held high and proud. We...cannot."

The President went on. "Before you send this young Captain and his beloved on their way, I think it would be wise to take some concrete action to vindicate their bravery and sacrifice."

Commander Singleton turned to the Council. "Ladies and gentlemen, I would move that we now vote on a subject we had tabled during the crisis because the approach of the Comet forced us to act under emergency conditions to obtain intelligence in the matter; namely, your formal ratification of my emergency reactivation of the Star Force. I would also ask you to make it permanent by keeping the Star Force organized as the First Interstellar Special Missions Task Force under my command, just as I designated it in my emergency reactivation order in September. As such, even though there might be times where the Star Force will not be needed because Earth will be at peace, it will always be available to be reunited at a moment's notice on my authority, or upon the request of the President. I am asking this so that the Star Force will be ready to serve us again at a moment's notice, if needed. I am asking this for no other reason than to ensure our security."

"What effect would this have on our readiness?" asked General Stone.

"As you know, General, the effect would be minimal," said Singleton. "Thanks to the emergency construction program we began a few weeks ago, we have the good fortune of still having five almost-completed space battleships of the _Andromeda_ class in the building docks across the planet, along with ten more space battleships of the _Jamaica_ class that are almost completed."

"Sir, I'm afraid you're incorrect," said General Camacho as Wildstar and Forrester sat there in surprise, completely unaware that the Defense Fleet had been building more new space warships. However, Wildstar guessed that it would only stand to reason. "For your information," continued Camacho, "the _Andromeda_-class space battleships _Scorpio _and _Sagittarius _have just completed their fitting-out stages. You may inform Admiral Lee this evening that the new Combined Fleet flagship _Scorpio _will be ready to commence space trials late next week after she's provisioned, and you may also inform Vice-Admiral Carpenter that the _Sagittarius _will likewise be ready for trials in ten days. Furthermore, the new _Jamaica_-class space battleships _Italia, Deutschland, _and _Britannia _should be ready for trials within seven to ten days, and should be ready to go on-line by early December. We anticipate that the other new battleships should be on-line by mid-December, along with the two surviving_ Yorktown_-class spacecraft carriers _Hermes _and _Akagi,_ which were unable to take off during the engagement at Saturn-Titan."

"That's news to me," said Mendellsohn. "How did that come to be?"

"I just received the report a while ago, Mister President," said Singleton. "It appears that the _Hermes _and _Akagi _developed problems with their automated engine systems before the battle of Saturn-Titan and were unable to join the Combined Fleet during the engagement. Hence, they were never caught in the White Comet's vortex, and after the battle, although they were both bombed in their docks by Cometine forces, they were largely ignored. Their captains guessed that since the ships were left burning after the bombing raids, they were of no further use to our defense efforts. Of course, they, like the _Argo_, were out of touch with Earth and assumed lost. Luckily, like the _Argo, _they were not lost. Their captains anticipate having the two carriers underway for dockyards on Earth within a week or two, Mr. President."

"So, it's better than we thought it would be," mused Mendellsohn. "The _Argo, _then, could be spared for a time? It's true? We have a fleet in being, then?"

"Yessir. And more than in being. Some of our patrol cruisers also survived the battle of Saturn-Titan, since they were on patrol elsewhere at the time of the engagement. Those ships, and your fifteen new space battleships, along with two carriers that survived by the skin of their teeth," said Camacho, "could easily, thus, serve as the nucleus of a new Defense Fleet. Including the _Argo, _that gives us eighteen large capital ships that we should have on line, soon. As for General Singleton's motion, then, concerning the Star Force..."

"I would second this motion," said Weller, surprising Derek and Nova. "Based on what we have just learned, I think it's both workable...and logical. What if another threat has to be investigated? Need we risk a new, inexperienced fleet?"

"It is thus before you. In favor?" said Singleton.

"Sir, I'd respectfully propose an amendment to this motion," said Stone.

"General...we're ready to vote!" snapped Singleton. "All right...what is your proposed amendment?"

"Sir, I would simply like to propose, as a rider to this motion, the simple notion, for the sake of DISCIPLINE, that the manner of the implementation of this decision, especially with respect to the _Argo's_ refit and the exact manner of the young Acting Captain's permanent promotion to the command of this unit be tabled until such time as we have before us full reports as to the _Argo's _current battle damage and what it would take to repair such damage, and until we have before us the young Captain's full service record so that we can carefully consider which grade would be appropriate for him as commander of this new unit. With all respect to you, Lieutenant Commander Wildstar, we can't formulate answers to these questions at near 0300 in the morning less than a day after your return. We just need more data to decide...as to how to best fit you and your ship to your new roles."

"Second the rider to the motion," said Sandberg with an acid little grin.

"They can't do that...," hissed Derek under his breath.

"Derek...don't," whispered Nova as she put a gentle but firm hand on her fiancée's shoulder. "It won't look good...not with all they're about to pass."

Wildstar slowly nodded. "Guess you're right."

"Gentlemen," snapped the President, who abruptly stood up, silencing any further dissent.

"Sir?" asked the Commander.

Mendellsohn momentarily looked up and down the Council chamber. His first impulse had been to state that he would see to it that the _Argo_ would be refitted as the Star Force best saw fit and that Wildstar be promoted at once to Captain on his own authority...and that anyone who disagreed would be free to register their dissent by resigning within the next twenty-four hours; until he reflected that the nature of the _Argo's _damage should at least be studied before a refit began...and that perhaps, the Commander should see to it that Wildstar eventually received a crash course at the Space Naval War College before being promoted to Captain or shortly afterwards...and, for those reasons, these little last-gasp provisos by the Defense Council should be allowed to stand. "It's nothing," he finally said. "Just an idea I had. Take your vote."

"It has been proposed, and seconded," said the Commander, "...that the prior designation of the Star Force as the First Interstellar Special Missions Task Force, a Special Forces unit under my command, or the command of the President, should, at this time, be made permanent. It has been further proposed that Lieutenant Commander Wildstar should be designated as commander of this unit under my exclusive command, to be held in reserve pending an appropriate call for action for the investigation of any threat to Earth caused by natural or alien intervention, or for special exploratory, diplomatic, or humanitarian duties as needed. Finally, it has been proposed that the exact time and manner of both the _Argo's _refit so that she can fulfill the conditions set forth under this mandate and of Lieutenant Commander Wildstar's future promotions to a rank consistent with this mandate should be determined at an appropriate time when all salient facts have been studied. All in favor..."

At that, Singleton's hand went up, followed, quickly, by Weller's, Willis', Stone's, Dentmann's, Paulson's, Kohler's, followed a moment later by that of General Hanif Muhammed, the head of the Spaceship Design Bureau, followed, a moment later, by that of Chinmaya Rajiv, the Minister of Commerce, and then, by the hand of Lt. General Hidalgo Camacho, the Chief of Logistics, and then by that of Daniel Margolis, the Member of Parliament present who was the Assembly Attached to the Armed Services Committee.

Finally, just as Singleton was about to say, "Opposed?...", the hand of Minister Ultrecht, of Emergency Preparations, went up, followed by the hand of General Weiner, and, finally, with a scowl, the hands of Durrell Bentley, the Minister of Communications, and, with an even bigger scowl, the hand of Dr. Sandberg, who decided to give up when he saw that even his two closest friends on the Council, namely, Weiner and Margolis, wouldn't stand with him to say "NO" to this motion of granting this wild-haired young punk, his anemic-looking girlfriend and their crazy, undisciplined confederates their own battlewagon to go out in and use to get Earth involved in expensive wars and stupid causes it didn't need to bother with.

It didn't change the result. "Motion passed, 15-0," said Singleton after a long moment. "Passage unanimous."

"Sir, I'd like us to pass one other short motion," said Weller as the previous motion was recorded.

"Yes?" asked Singleton, a little skeptically.

"First, I should like to ask. Has the _Scorpio _yet been formally christened, sir?"

"Not to my knowledge," said Singleton.

"Sir, _Scorpio _was the project name for that particular hull," said General Camacho. "It's the name that we expect to give to the new..."

"Well, with all respect, I think we should belay that notion. We've just talked about reviving the spirit of Earth with our new Fleet and our new Star Force. In world history, during one of Earth's last wars between nations, a famous aircraft carrier known as _Lexington_was lost in the Battle of the Coral Sea. The "Lady _Lex_", as she was known, was a proud ship, one of the most famous aircraft carriers of her nation. Soon after she was sunk, her nation, in a desire to avenge her, took a larger and better aircraft carrier, waiting on the ways, and decided that she should carry on the_ Lexington's_ name and legacy. As a matter of fact, some of _Lexington__'s_ old crew was assigned to the new carrier that bore her name. Now, we have just lost our own flagship, a great and proud vessel in her own right. We also had officers and men who were slated to join her crew upon her first rotation home, correct?"

"Yes, you're right," said Stone.

"It's clear, then," said Weller. "Ladies and gentlemen, in memory of Admiral Draco Gideon, and our desire to rebuild, I'd like to move that the new _Andromeda-_class space battleship known as _Scorpio_ should be renamed _Andromeda_."

"Motion seconded," said Stone a moment later.

Wildstar bowed his head as General Singleton said, "All in favor?"...and every hand on the Council went up.

"Opposed?" asked Singleton. No one's hand went up.

"Mister President," said Singleton. "We've moved to rename our new flagship _Andromeda_. Any objections, sir?"

"None whatsoever," said Mendellsohn. "As a matter of fact, I have a certain wish of my own as to what we should name another space battleship."

"Yes?" asked Camacho.

"But...it is not yet the time to consider such questions," said Mendellsohn thoughtfully. "However, General," said the President, gazing right at Singleton with his dark eyes for a moment, "...you may be assured that one of your proposals has not fallen on deaf ears. When the time comes to consider the naming of such a special ship, such as what you and I spoke of, I will speak out. I will not speak again of this subject before that time," said Mendellsohn in a quiet voice. Captain Wildstar," said the President to a rather mystified Derek Wildstar. "You, Lieutenant Forrester, and any other survivors from the _Argo_ fit to attend are to attend a reception here on Friday the twentieth in order to be publicly granted your awards. Minister Bentley, you and my information officer shall arrange to have this announcement released by morning, along with the announcement of your decision regarding the Star Force."

"Yessir," said Bentley.

"I would also like to see General Stone and Doctor Sandberg in my office after this meeting ends," said the President in a slow, quiet pronouncement. "Gentlemen...we have much to discuss."

"Yessir," said Stone, with a solemn nod of his head.

"Do you have any more to discuss at this time?" asked Mendellsohn.

"We have much more to discuss," said Weller. "Such as, of course, the question of the deployment our new Fleet."

"I have some input to propose on that matter, sir," said Singleton.

Mendellsohn nodded. "Commander, are the young Captain and the Lieutenant required for the rest of this meeting?"

"I would think not," said Singleton.

"Very well...you're both dismissed. Ensign, show them out."

"Yessir," said one of the young staff orderlies as he stood up, waiting for Wildstar and Nova to rise from their seats.

* * *

"I can't believe it," said a drowsy Derek Wildstar, whom, granted, was being awakened by a cup of coffee being served to him by an orderly in the dark blue staff car on the way back to the BOQ complex at the edge of the vast Cliffside shipyard. "Nova, they saw that we did the right thing." 

"Could reasonable men have seen any less?" she asked.

"You know that we weren't always sure the Defense Council was reasonable."

"All right...half-reasonable," yawned Nova.

"First time I ever met your parents," he said as the car stopped at the gates of the complex to be checked in. "They seem nice, Nova. Is all of your family like that?"

"Yes...except for an exception or two I don't care to talk about," said Nova. "It IS almost 0400. I don't want to have bad dreams tonight. I might, though...the face of that Zordar...full of hatred...rage...I'll never forget it. He seemed like the essence of evil itself."

"He certainly did," said Wildstar as he looked up in the sky. There, in the distance, two fading but faint glows were still visible far up in the night. One was coming from the moon, which was still cooling.

The other, they noticed, was further out, out towards sea. It was the sort of glow caused by burning gas. Somewhere, far up in the depths of space, a few of the gaseous remains of Zordar's dreadnought burned on, forming an imposing but beautiful tombstone in the stars for Trelaina of Telezart.

"That glow..," said Wildstar softly. "It's still burning."

"Just like...Telezart," said Nova with a hitch in her voice. "Trelaina...I hope that you're at peace," said Nova through something like a sob.

Wildstar looked up, and noticed a shooting star zooming down, followed by another. "Pieces of the Comet Empire City, I guess," he said in awe.

"Sir, a Marine pilot I spoke to was just up flying a patrol a few hours ago," said the enlisted driver, sitting in the front seat next to the orderly. "He said that junk like that was all over the place in orbit."

"Space junk," said Wildstar.

"Who knows?" said Nova. "Maybe Trelaina sent some of it down to Earth to bid us a last farewell."

"Maybe..." said Derek. "Like I said...we can't understand...but it's not important. She's done so much for us."

The car began to stop before a building...a building which, to their distress, they noticed was smoking.

"That was my old unit; the Eight-Thousand Block," said Wildstar. "I don't believe it...did they hit it?"

The aircar stopped, and the driver actuated his window, just in time to see a guard waving them away.

The guard wondered who was IN the staff car, but he had no further time for his thoughts. He had his orders not to let anyone towards the Eight-Thousand Block, and he meant to enforce them, albeit tactfully.

"Corporal," said the Marine guard with his hand up, "The North wing on this building took some collateral damage today when Zordar's dreadnought attacked the city. Until further notice, all billets here have been evacuated and are closed until they can make repairs."

"Private, this vehicle is carrying an important officer who resides in the south wing of this block. Can't you let him in?"

"I'm sorry, Corporal. I have my orders from Ensign Radcliffe herself. The whole building's unsafe and could collapse if inhabited."

"What about the units in the Two-Thousand Block, Private?" called out Forrester from her window after opening it.

"Oh, those are all right, ma'am," he said with some awe when he saw who was sticking her head out the window. "Why do you ask?"

"That's where I was billeted before all of this began," said Nova. "Corporal, take us there. The Deputy Captain's staying with me for a time."

"Yes, ma'am," he said dutifully after a moment's hesitation. They drove off to the Two-Hundred Block.

The Two-Thousand Block BOQ was just one of many four-story buildings that held efficiency apartments for young unmarried officers. The stairs for such buildings were on the outside; leading up, in order, to verandahs that went around the spartan but modern buildings.

Nova's billet was, of course, one that Derek was familiar with, having visited her here in September before the news about the White Comet had led to his decision to steal the _Argo. _The building looked deceptively peaceful sitting here like this in the chilly night. Only a few lights were on, accompanied by the small lights before the door of each unit.

Derek and Nova didn't have far to go before they got up to the second floor level. Then, they took a left turn on the verandah, until they got to Unit # 2214, which had been Nova's billet. The doorway light was on, but there were no other lights on in the apartment.

"I hope they were right, Derek," whispered Nova.

"Right about what?"

"Having the place empty. The last thing we need is to barge in on someone if they've reassigned the place."

Nova dug around inside the small canvas bag she had taken off the _Argo _until she found her old passkey. Pulling out the plastic card, she inserted it in the lock, and was gratified to find that it still worked.

They entered what was revealed to be an empty efficiency apartment when they turned the lights on. The furniture in the main area consisted of a sofa flanked on one side by a small end-table with a modernistic lamps on a thin stalk, with a small white carpet between it and the desk-shelf unit nearby. The desk unit was bare, save for a vid-phone that was still connected. To Wildstar's right, there was a small galley area. Nova knelt beside him to look in the fridge after turning up the heat in the chilly, vacant unit.

"Nova...it'll be empty."

"I know. I'd like to turn it on so it'll be cold when morning comes. We will have to go out and make a supply run."

"What do you want tomorrow?"

"Pizza," yawned Nova. "Not for breakfast, of course. But for lunch, maybe dinner. It's fattening, but who cares, for the moment? I haven't HAD any in almost three months."

" We'll have to visit supply tomorrow to draw some uniforms, I guess," said Wildstar as he stepped into the bedroom and slid open the door to the closet.

"Why?" asked Nova as, nonetheless, she hung up his peacoat beside her own after he shrugged it off. Silence reigned for a moment as he went into the head; the door to which was near an empty chest.

"Silly question," he said through the door. "I can't get to the storeroom in my building. You stored your things, I gather?"

"Yes, at my parents' place. They were shocked when I came by in the middle of the night in September to drop it off with Mark & Dr. Sane," said Nova as he came out. "All I told Mother is that I was heading off to a new assignment," she said as she rooted through her bag for a moment. "There it is..." she said softly. "Safe and sound. It's going right up to make this billet look a little more pleasant."

"What is it?" asked Wildstar, who was curious as she placed it against the metallic wall; it stuck there with a magnetic strip attached to its back.

"Just a picture of a butterfly I painted in high school from a book," said Nova offhandedly. "I was sixteen when I painted that."

"It's beautiful.." said Derek. "Wish I could put my finger on the species...I used to collect those."

"When?"

"When I was a boy. I wanted to preserve them...right before the bombings intensified...I was afraid we'd lose them forever."

"That's why I painted this," said Nova. "For all I know," she sighed, "we have lost this species of butterfly forever. I thought its beauty needed to be memorialized somewhere. This picture's sort of like a good luck charm to me. It went with me to Iscandar, and it survived Zordar. I'm surprised you never noticed it in my cabin, Derek."

"When I was there...I was too busy...after a while...looking at you..."

"How sweet," she said softly as she opened a drawer under the bunk and found, to her surprise, a brown standard-issue blanket still folded up in the bottom of the drawer.

"Uh...there _are_ two there?" asked Derek.

"Why do you need to know?" yawned Nova as she spread out the blanket.

"Well...if you're putting me on the couch..."

"We'll see," yawned Nova. "For the moment, you're getting in here beside me! I don't care how narrow this bunk is."

"I thought we...uhh... agreed..."

"Not explicitly," said Nova, catching on what he was talking about. "But...you've always been honorable," she yawned. "You don't mind snuggling your fiancée, I hope?'"

"Sure don't," replied Derek, who almost felt like winking until a deep wave of sleepiness passed over him and he was forced to sit on the bunk. "Have any tea?"

"No, Deputy Captain, you need sleep. And don't say a darn thing about my babying you, either...especially since you're under MY roof until you're given a new billet! Got that?" said Nova in an irritable yet tender tone as she pulled her boots off, revealing her standard-issue white socks. "Careful with your shirt," she said with some concern as he began to open it. "I DON'T want you pulling that dressing off your arm. What was _wrong_ with me before in the hospital? I should've made you come in to get it changed!"

"Could it wait 'til morning?" yawned Wildstar.

"Hold it, Derek," Nova said forcefully as she carefully pulled his shirt off over his bandaged arm. She took the arm and examined the bandage. "It looks okay for now...I guess. You're only taking sponge baths until I can get you a new dressing, though. Okay. Boots off...into bed."

"My uniform'll get wrinkled," said Wildstar as he undid his boots and, as an afterthought, unsnapped the holster holding his Astro-Automatic, putting the holstered sidearm on a shelf over the head of the bed.

"I can wash it in the morning," said Nova sleepily. "Besides, it's chilly in here, and you need something on you. I take it you don't have pajamas in your back pocket."

"No...I don't," he yawned.

"That settles it," yawned Nova. She got up, turned off the light, and reached over Derek to open the blind a little before beginning to crawl into bed in her uniform and socks. Then, she stopped, and said, "oops...excuse me! Got to get rid of MY sidearm..," she muttered, realizing she had almost gone to bed with her gunbelt on. "Be out in a minute," she said as she stepped into the head herself.

Wildstar, who was beginning to fall asleep, lay back and looked out the window at the glow of the fires that were still burning in parts of the vast Federal Megalopolis. Things here on Great Island (or Honshu, Japan) were really bad tonight.

_About forty-eight hours ago... _he thought, looking up at a digital-display chronometer set into the wall next to the sliding closet door which read 0422, _we were just getting ready to attack the Comet Empire City. I can't believe that in about two days, we won...with Trelaina's help...and I'm here, at peace, in Nova's apartment, about to just go to sleep...as if the past three months of my life have been some kind of a dream. Funny...I was going to stay here with her the night I came home...but it never came off because of the world-wide blackout...it's so strange..._

"What are you thinking about?" asked Nova as she climbed into bed beside him, still fully dressed except for her boots.

"Oh...how the past three months have flashed by like some kind of dream...everything's changed...all in such a short, short time. I wonder what the next three months of our life will be like?"

"Well...we'll have to set the date for a certain blessed event soon," yawned Nova. "You know what I mean..."

"Yes...I do," said Wildstar with a significant pause and a smile. "What date were you thinking of?"

"You said, as soon as all this is through..."

"...we'll spend the rest of our lives together...," said Derek softly...

"So, I think it should be soon," said Nova sleepily. "No waiting forever. Agreed?"

"Agreed. Uhmm...how soon? We have a lot to plan."

"We'll do it in the morning...we need to get some rest. You need it."

Nova then turned over and kissed Derek softly on the lips. The kiss was returned. "Good night," she whispered.

"Good night, Nova."

"Sweet dreams..." sighed Nova as she sort of turned over, half cuddling into the built-in bolster in the bunk, but also, half-cuddling to face the window and Derek.

"I hope so," he whispered sleepily. "I...hope..."

And, at that, he fell asleep.

**_END OF ACT ONE._**

* * *


	2. Tomorrow Never Knows Act Two

****

TOMORROW NEVER KNOWS 

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ACT TWO: REBUILDING 

* * *

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I. DREAMS AND SCHEMES 

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Federal Megalopolis 

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EDF Cliffside Space Naval Base 

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BOQ Billet 2216 

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November 16, 2201 

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1314 Hours-Spacetime 

* * *

Derek Wildstar had become quite accustomed to moving, because, after all, he had been on the move in one form or another since shortly after the death of his parents. His lifestyle in the space service had only served to crystallize his on-the-go tendencies. 

So, he found it natural to be moving into a new set of assigned quarters on this late autumn afternoon after having run a few errands. One of them, namely, the requisitioning of a fresh standard blue duty uniform and the recovery of his blue peacoat, had made him feel much better. As much as he liked his Star Force whites, the uniform he had been in for about two days had become more than a little rumpled. 

After inserting his card-key into the card-reader slot near a door just two doors down from Nova's billet, he stepped into a small apartment not at all unlike hers. 

__

The usual, he thought with a sigh of familiarity as he strode into the apartment. _I've been in and out of quarters like these in the underground cities after I graduated, as well as just before I left for my second cruise on the Argo and shortly afterward. Feels just like the old place in the Eight-Thousand Block, _he thought as he set down the suitcase he had collected from the _Argo _earlier in the morning as well as a seabag full of personal possessions and gear that he had stored in a facility on the base before he had departed on his "leave", as he had told the enlisted man in charge of the facility, as a cover for his unauthorized departure with the_ Argo _in September. 

In the living room, Wildstar threw his suitcase on the couch and opened it. 

The first thing he pulled out was a clear techtite-covered picture in a black frame. It was a portrait of Nova in a pink blouse, smiling cheerfully into the camera. 

__

You sent me this when I was on my one-year tour on the Argo when she was the flagship of the Third Squadron, when we left under Commodore Jose' Managua's command, thought Wildstar with a pleasant smile. _Boy, did Homer razz me when he saw me looking at it! You don't want to know what I told him to do with his razzing. Then, of course, it became a little more serious after Commodore Managua became ill, and had to be medevaced off the ship in mid-August for surgery. They left the squadron under my temporary command to bring her home, expecting, of course, that nothing would happen. Boy, were they wrong...._

__

Next, there's the model of my Super Starfighter, the one I call my "Cosmo Zero" thought Wildstar as he withdrew a wrapped metal-and-plastic model of his favored Type 52 Super Starfighter Interceptor astrofighter, complete with the "01" nose ID number that as he observed, had been painted on all of his planes he had used as the _Argo's _Fighter Captain._ That "01" was on all of them, _he thought, _even though I crashed one on the Argo's aft deck in the Octopus Star Storm on the way to Iscandar, then had the second one destroyed in one of the Argo's upper fighter bays in the Battle of Gamilon not long after the Argo arose from the acid seas, and then...I left my third one a battered wreck in the bottom of the Comet Empire City after Sandor and I left it behind as a target for the Comet Imperial gunners while we were going after the energy center. For all I know, it's probably still lying up there in orbit in what's left of the lower half of the Comet Empire City._

__

Hmmm... mused Wildstar as he put his model on a shelf. _I wonder what Zordar's race named that thing? Maybe they'll find out if they ever send intelligence and demolitions crews into that mess to see if there's anything we can salvage out of that wreck. I can guess one thing, though...I'll probably have a fourth plane like this soon, especially if I can help it._

__

And, finally, thought Derek as he withdrew another object with a smile_...my graduation present from Alex...my..._

At that, Derek's reverie was interrupted by a few quick taps at the door. 

"Coming!" he yelled as he ran across the room to the door. Upon opening the door, he saw Nova standing there holding up a small bike with a cargo carrier over the back wheel that had a pizza box attached to it with a clip and bungee cord. She, too, had changed, having exchanged her gold Star Force uniform for a black leatherette flight jacket, white sweatshirt, jeans, and boots. 

"Hi...where'd you get that?" he asked gesturing to the white bicycle. 

"Mine. I had it in storage with my other things. I didn't feel like going through the red tape of requisitioning another staff aircar to go out for pizza," she said as she began to free the pizza box from the rear of the bicycle. 

"How's about buying an aircar?" he joked. 

"_Buying_ one?" said Nova with a note in her voice that indicated some concern for her fiancée's sanity. 

"Yeah...you should have more than enough in your credit account to do that, what with the hazard pay they've probably given us..." 

"Uhh...Derek...I believe I can think of other things to do with my money...especially as we have to plan a few things." 

"Such as?" he asked teasingly as Nova locked the bike up to the railing outside on the balcony and then danced into the apartment carrying the pizza box. 

"Hmmm...," said Nova as she looked in his bag for a moment. "Does this give you a hint?" she said as she pulled out another picture; an instant stereo-portrait now encased in plastic. It was a picture of Derek about a second or so after Nova had slapped his hand on their first date on the _Argo's_ aft observation deck in April of 2200. 

"Yes. You're going to slap me again if I keep on talking about you going out to buy an aircar today." 

"No," said Nova brightly. 

"Hmmm..," said Derek as he began to open the pizza box that he and Nova had pooled their available credits for Nova to purchase. "You want me to take a picture of you in your new civvies." 

"Might not be a bad idea, but you're still wrong..." 

"You're in the mood to slap me again." 

"Keep this up and I_ will _be," sang Nova. 

"Hmmm...I'm not sure I want to hazard another guess," said Derek. 

"Well...you know, Derek...I can picture, some day, a little boy or girl looking at that picture, and saying, "Gee, weren't my parents silly once upon a time when they were young?" said Nova in a soft voice as she picked up a piece of pizza. 

"Uh-huh...I think I can, too," said Derek after a long pause with a little smile. 

"But, let's run this back a little," said Nova. "What do the parents have to do, first?" 

"Well...the mother has to have the kid..." 

"Yes," said Nova with a sour look on her face. "But what happens before that?" 

"Papa and Mama have to go off somewhere to a nice, quiet place and _make_ the kid," said Derek with a roguish grin. 

"Oh_...you!_ You would say that," said Nova with a blush...and a caress of Derek's hand. "But...well...as you know, what customarily happens in these times before prospective Papas and Mamas run off to make babies...preferably...long before?" 

"They get married," said Wildstar with a soft smile. 

"Right," said Nova with closed eyes and a big smile. "By George, I think the skipper's finally figured out what I want to talk about." 

"Uh-huh," said Wildstar. "Of course, you know, we can't exactly run off and get married today any more than you can run off to Friendly Sam's and buy an aircar. Friendly Sam's is probably bombed out and, since the EDF Personnel office that grants permission for service members to marry is also probably damaged along with the rest of Headquarters. I don't think there's a single place in town where you can get a white gown today, and...well...," sighed Wildstar, looking out at the plumes of smoke in the city, "...all of the available padres are most likely, unfortunately, out praying for the sick and wounded..." 

"...and planning funeral services," said Nova softly and sadly. 

"Yeah. I wonder...we'll probably be busy with the rebuilding soon, too. But, I promised you that as soon as this was through, we'd spend the rest of our lives together...and we will. but...I wonder if this is the right day to be discussing our wedding date?" said Wildstar sadly. 

"I'd be wondering the same thing...," said Nova. "...if I didn't love you as much as I do. I feel this is important." 

"I know," he said, taking her hands as her eyes went wide and began to water. "There's a lot we'll have to do, and soon. You know...we'll have to seek and get official permission..." 

"Which I'm sure we'll get after all we did for Earth, Derek." 

"And...there's our careers...we don't know if we'll be stationed near each other...and what about if the _Argo_ gets called back into action, soon?" 

"..did that ever stop us?" 

"No," said Wildstar thoughtfully. "It didn't. And, it shouldn't. We'll need to get the appropriate paperwork done...plan so much...it'll be hard...but...well...," said Derek. 

"Maybe we should save this for another time," said Nova quietly. "After all...it is a lot to think about..." 

__

No, thought Wildstar as he sat back and shut his eyes. _I can't let this slip away, now. I can't! I promised her when this was through, we'd be together, and I can't let anything get in the way of my promise. It's been too long already..._

"Nova...," said Derek after he opened his eyes. 

"Yes, Derek?" 

"Something just occurred to me. What would you like for Christmas?" 

"Christmas? I don't know...it's a little far off...but it is almost that time of year, isn't it?" mused Nova. 

"May I make a suggestion?" 

"Make a suggestion?" said a puzzled Nova. "Okay. You mean...you want to...suggest to me...what you should buy me for Christmas...so it won't be a surprise, anymore? Okay. I'll bite. What do you suggest for my Christmas present, Mister?" 

"Well...how about a gold ring..?" 

"Sounds nice." 

"And a white wedding dress to go with it?" suggested Derek as suddenly Nova's eyes lit up and her mouth fell open. "I should be able to get you one by then." 

"You can get me the ring...Mom'll have to get me the gown and keep it a secret for good luck, of course," added Nova. "When do I...uh...put them both on at once for the first time?" 

"How about the next day? Unless you mind going to church again the day after Christmas, that is..." 

"I think that'd be wonderful!" cried Nova. 

"Great," said Derek. "Of course...we'll have to seek your father's blessing, first..." 

"That won't be a problem at all, I'm sure," said Nova. "We might be able to see them at their temporary apartment in the underground city tonight." 

"Why not? Uh...I just met your parents for the first time yesterday. Won't it seem a bit sudden?" laughed Wildstar. 

"You don't know my mother very well..," said Nova through a giggle. "Mom's been trying to marry me off since the day I graduated from the University of Colorado. She really hit me with it when we were on our way to Iscandar, and we had time to...you know...say goodbye to our families? She was showing me pictures of potential suitors over the videophone, would you believe?" 

"So, when should we call your father?" 

"Let's try to call him today...when we head into town, and..." 

Wildstar sat bolt upright when his newly-installed videophone rang. He answered it with a quick, "Yes?" 

"Captain..,. said an anonymous-looking officer on the other end of the line. "You and Miss Forrester are wanted at Defense Headquarters today at 1600 for a press conference. Please make certain you're both in appropriate uniform." 

"Of course," said Wildstar. "Nova?" 

She just nodded once as the conversation between Wildstar and the staff officer ended. Then, she said, "I'll have to go soon. I'll have to change into a set of blues. Where do you want to meet?" 

"Here. By the way, I was able to requisition a car this morning." 

"Oh! You didn't tell me that!" said Nova. 

"Well....we were talking about other things." 

"That's right," said Nova with a smile. "We'll call my father after this is done...okay?" 

"All right." 

"See you later," said Nova as she gave Derek a kiss before she went back out to get her bike. 

"Bye, now," said Wildstar as she stepped out the door. 

__

Well...life goes on... thought Wildstar with a tight smile. 

The press conference was held in a briefing room in one of the few undamaged portions of the Defense Headquarters building. The Commander, Wildstar, Nova, and Eager were present. The three Star Force veterans were all in regular duty blues with blue peacoats. Singleton wore his usual uniform. The assembled members of the press corps went right at it after the introductions. 

A reporter began with: "_London Times: _the question is: how do we know that Zordar is actually dead?" 

"Very well, sir," said Wildstar. "As you know, we succeeded in destroying Zordar's Empire City. However, a giant black space dreadnought rose up from the ruins and attacked the _Argo _before we could react. We were severely damaged, and, even though I didn't want to admit it, a decision was made to abandon ship." 

"So, you abandoned the ship?" asked a reporter from the Asia-Net satellite network. "What about the rest of your crew?" 

"Many of us were injured in the attack," said Eager. "I...well...ah had the wind knocked outta me. I was one of those evacuated." 

"Sheri Reynolds, _CanAm Net_," said another reporter. "Captain Wildstar, what did you do afterwards?" 

"I had a plan in mind," said Wildstar. "I had planned to send the _Argo _on a final dive against the enemy ship, ejecting at the last possible moment. I evacuated the entire crew, but, when commencing my mission, I found that Miss Forrester here had stayed behind, against my orders, to help me." 

"Miss Forrester, why did you disobey his orders and stay on the ship?" demanded a middle-aged male reporter with an angry glance towards Nova. 

The Commander knew what would be coming up, of course. Wildstar and Nova had both discussed the subject at length in their debriefing before the Defense Council. 

"Because I am also a member of the Star Force," replied Nova. "I guessed what the Captain would do and I couldn't idly go home in a medevac boat while he needed my help. Also... I happen to love the Captain very much, and I didn't want anything to happen to him," said Nova, knowing that with the Commander listening, the action might draw her a reprimand, but she knew it would have to come out anyway. Better to let it out now and not hide anything. 

"Captain, Daisuke Kuriyama, _Yoimuri Shimbun,_" said another reporter. "When you learned of Miss Forrester's actions, what did you do?" 

"Well...since, by now, I am very familiar that others might, at times, disregard orders, but only if for a good reason...I accepted her services as a co-pilot, and..well...decided to propose to her in the bargain." 

"Did you accept his proposal?" yelled a young female reporter in Nova's direction as some of the press laughed. 

Nova just smiled and said, "Yes. But, then, I had to put my feelings aside, because I knew we'd have a job ahead of us." 

At that, Singleton smiled. 

"Together, we worked to ready the _Argo_ for a final attack on Zordar's ship," continued Nova..."Until Trelaina of Telezart appeared again with Venture's body." 

"Boris Gorsakov, _MoskvaNet_," barked another reporter. "What I need to know about Lieutenant Commander Venture is this: was he dead or alive?" 

"Missing, presumed dead," said Wildstar. "He was tossed away in our last battle with Desslok." 

"How did that particular battle end?" asked another reporter. 

"It ended when Desslok broke off the attack and left voluntarily," said Wildstar over a hubbub of incredulous voices. "He decided to help us...partially because the Lieutenant here, well ...decided to fulfill her military duty to her commanding officer by attempting a rescue, when he was wounded by wreckage in Desslok's flagship." 

"By 'Commanding Officer', you mean yourself, right?" yelled another reporter. 

"I think that's who he's talkin' about," said Eager to a great deal of laughter. 

Wildstar cleared his throat and continued with, "I was about to confront Desslok, when I blacked out due to a loss of blood. When I came to, I found Miss Forrester guarding me like a watchdog. Desslok...I guess...was impressed, and he told us how to attack the Comet Empire...and left." 

"Captain, Maren Moshulu, _Afro States Regional Media_," began a rather tall reporter. "We heard that you sent a message stating you no longer consider Desslok of Gamilon an enemy. Is that true?" 

"Yes...because he did, after all, help us, and left in peace," said Nova. 

"And you _let him go?_" demanded another reporter. "Captain, with all respect, are you an idiot?"

"The_ Argo_ was damaged because we had rammed Desslok's flagship, and we considered it our prime duty to attack the Comet Empire City!" snapped Wildstar. 

"Thank you," said the previous reporter. 

"My name is Ki Xaopeng, _China State News. _We've heard much of Trelaina today. Precisely how did she rescue the _Argo?"_

"She appeared on the bridge with Venture's body, and said she would fight Zordar for us; to her it was more important that Venture be returned to Earth," said Wildstar. "Then, she left, and shortly afterwards, sacrificed her life to defeat Zordar. That's it." 

"Raymond Jameson,_ Chicago Times,_" barked another reporter as he came to his feet. "Captain Wildstar!" he shouted. "Did you receive crucial information from Desslok?" 

"Well...in Admiral Gideon's last message to us, he told us to attack the city at the bottom," said Wildstar. "I forgot about it until Nova reminded me that Desslok had said the same thing." 

__

"Lieutenant!" Jameson bellowed at Nova. "When did you happen to remember this, and why didn't the Captain remember something this important when you met with Desslok?" 

"When we met with Desslok, the Captain was wounded," said Nova. "He was, at best, semi-conscious. When Desslok told us how he truly felt about the Comet Empire, he was talking to both of us, but I remembered what he said because I was the only one there out of the two of us who was able to remember anything. In short, I remembered what Desslok said, and brought it up at the briefing a few hours later." 

"And, Captain Wildstar," continued Jameson, "at that time, you thought that Desslok's advice was reliable? After all, he was recently trying to commit genocide against the human race!" 

"Yes, sir, I did," said Wildstar. "Miss Forrester mentioned that he said when we defeated him on Gamilon, we aimed our attack at the weakest spot; the bottom of Gamilon's volcanic system. He then said that we should attack the Comet Empire the same way. Based on the knowledge that he had been serving the Comet Empire and probably knew the city's weak spots, and based upon the fact that Admiral Gideon advised us to attack the lower half of the city at Saturn-Titan; which we couldn't follow through on at that time because the _Argo _was too badly damaged to launch an effective attack, I decided to attack, and I think we owe Admiral Gideon and... Desslok...our gratitude for their perceptiveness in this matter." 

"Thanks," said Jameson, finally placated. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Jamelkal Shankar, _New Delhi InfoNet._," said yet another reporter. "Mister Kendall, would you consider this evidence presented by both the Lieutenant and the Lieutenant Commander to be reliable?" 

"I certainly would," said Eager. "Both of them are among the best officers I know. I was through a lot with them, and I risked my career to go back out into space with Captain Wildstar because I believed that he felt somethin' had to be investigated so strongly that he'd violate orders to take out the _Argo_, he had to be doin' so for a good reason. That's why I left to rejoin the Star Force, and that's why all of us left. We felt it was just...the right thing to do." 

"And...I felt the same way," said Nova. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm afraid our time is about up," said the Commander. "On behalf of the United Earth Government, I'd like to thank you for coming." 

On that note, the press conference ended. 

As the reporters began to leave, General Singleton said, "Commander Wildstar, Miss Forrester...I'd like to see both of you in private for a moment. Follow me, please." 

Derek and Nova looked at each other with a little bit of shock. A moment later, Wildstar said, "Of course...sir." 

****

*******

Derek and Nova found themselves standing before a desk in Singleton's temporary office a few minutes later. 

"Commander...Miss Forrester," said Singleton as he sat down. "You two will be rather busy over the next few days. Because of that, I've decided that you won't be reassigned for the next four days. Even though you'll have a lot to do, you can at least consider this a leave from your duties." 

"Sir, what about the work on the _Argo?_" asked Wildstar. 

"As you know, the ship sustained heavy damage. The staff at the drydock, led by Lieutenant Commander Joseph Yamazaki, your chief engineer's old second-in-command, has the ship well in hand for the moment until Lieutenant Commander Sandor recovers and is released from Central Hospital. I've been led to understand that the _Argo_ will require a great deal of work before she'll be fully spaceworthy again, Wildstar." 

"She _has_ to be rebuilt, sir. She's the only space battleship we have left after the disaster at Saturn-Titan. What was that the Defense Council was saying about "deciding the manner of her refit?"" 

"Wildstar, what they meant was deciding how much money and time to put into refit." 

"Commander...that can't be a serious question, now...can it?" asked Nova. 

"It is," said the Commander. "We're already debating how we'll go about reconstructing the Defense Fleet. At the current time, there's a debate in progress about the fate of the_ Argo. _Some parties simply want her rebuilt back to the condition she was in when you commandeered her in September. Others...would like her rebuilt in a more comprehensive fashion." 

"They're not still thinking of rebuilding her into a machine, are they, sir?" asked Wildstar. 

"There are several alternative refit proposals being considered," said the Commander. "However, be advised that none of them include rebuilding the _Argo_ along the lines of the _Andromeda _class." 

"That's a relief, sir. I wonder what else they're waiting for?" asked Wildstar. 

"For one thing, Lieutenant Commander Sandor's input...and they won't have that until he gets out of the hospital some time next month," said Singleton. "At any rate, I called you here to advise you of this..delay in your reassignment...and, also, to let you know that both of you will be expected to appear together at many more debriefings, as well as at some official ceremonies; at which time, you'll receive the thanks of the government...as well as the thanks of all of Earth, for your heroism during this crisis. Which reminds me. I understand that you're planning to marry soon?" 

"Uhh..yes," said Wildstar. "We have a tentative date set...but it could be...set back...if needed," said Wildstar after a pause. 

"About when were you planning the event?" 

"Sometime around the holidays," said Nova a moment later. 

"Good. That shouldn't present a problem," said Singleton. 

"Sir...don't we have to apply for official permission, first?" said Wildstar. 

"After what you've done for Earth...that'll be no problem. I'll see to it. However, please keep me appraised of the date? If it wouldn't be an imposition, I'd like to attend." 

"Sir...thank you..," said Wildstar, who glanced at Nova with an expression of utter surprise on his face. "What made you...?" 

"Nothing much...except that I noted your devotion towards each other and your duties...and...I think that it might be good for the planet's morale to see a relatively pleasant event in the news after what we've been through. As for your joint service in the Star Force, which will, of course, be continued, I'll see to the appropriate waivers from some of the Protocol regulations, as well." 

"_Waivers?_" asked Wildstar with an expression of surprise that was echoed on his fiancée's face. 

"Waivers that would allow you both to serve on the ship as a married couple. Such things aren't unheard of under special circumstances. I'd like to make sure that both of you serve on the _Argo _...when she's ready and when she's needed again." 

"Sir, does our next assignment involve space duty?" asked Nova. 

"No. We were contemplating assigning you both to TDY assignments at training commands for about a month. You wouldn't be in the same units, of course, but you'd be in enough proximity to each other as to enable you to make your personal plans without any major problems. Any objections?" 

"No, sir," said Wildstar. 

"Good. We'll speak about the specifics later. Commander...Miss Forrester...you're dismissed for the moment." said Singleton with a nod as he stood up. 

Both Derek and Nova took the cue, and said, "Thank you, sir," as they saluted. Singleton returned the salute, and they left him alone. 

__

That was easy, he thought as he put away some papers. _Now, all I have to think about is the rest of the Fleet...and the work we'll have ahead as we rebuild it...._

* * *

****

II. DINNER 

****

Earth 

****

Federal Megalopolis 

****

Underground City 

****

Karl Forrester's Apartment 

****

November 16, 2201 

****

1914 Hours-Spacetime 

* * *

The Forrester family home was located in the Boulder Section of the Denver Megalopolis. However, Karl and Teri had been staying in the Capital because some of Karl's business on behalf of his law firm had required him to stay in the Federal Megalopolis for a period of time. As a result, Karl had been renting an apartment in the city for those occasions. Because Karl and Teri had been staying in their Federal apartment when the great panic had hit, they were able to acquire a temporary apartment in the underground city. Because both the condition of their home in Boulder was unknown, as was the condition of the building in the Megalopolis where their current apartment was located, they were still staying here in their temporary underground quarters in the Capital. 

It was there that Derek and Nova arrived for Derek's first formal meeting with Nova's parents. Wildstar still wore his uniform and blue peacoat, but Nova had changed into a pink dress and black pumps for the occasion. She was also wearing a brand-new white gold ring set with a single beautiful purple amethyst that Derek had purchased for her as an engagement ring in one of the few open jewelry shops. Nova had guessed something was up when he had asked her what her birthstone was earlier that day. 

"Derek..," said Nova in a soothing voice when the tube-lift took them down to the proper level. "...you don't need to worry about this. I told you that my mother can't wait for me to get married. Don't worry about this." 

"I'm not worried about your mother," said Wildstar. "I'm a little worried about your father." 

"Why? He likes you." 

"True...but, you know, this is the first time I've requested someone's hand in marriage, Nova," he said as they walked along, holding hands. 

"I see. It makes a little sense that you'd be nervous," said Nova. "Derek...what are you looking at?" 

Wildstar released a deep sigh. "I don't like being down here...seeing those windows lit up again...knowing that people had to flee down here because of the White Comet...because the Fleet failed them at Saturn-Titan...and maybe...because we failed them by not knowing that Zordar had that dreadnought hidden in his city. If only we could've stopped the Comet Empire sooner, maybe this wouldn't have happened." 

"Derek...we did all that we could. You know that. And we were able to succeed in the end...with Trelaina's help." 

"Yes...her love saved all of us. Without that love...who knows where we'd be now? We owe Venture a great debt, too...for earning that love from Trelaina. Nova...if you feel up to it, do you want to go and visit him tonight...see how he is?" 

"Maybe that should wait until tomorrow night, Derek. We don't know when we'll be out of here, but it'll probably be after visiting hours are over at the hospital." 

At that, they stopped talking for a little while as they drew closer to the apartment building where Karl and Teri were staying. In the lobby, they quickly found the elevator that would take them to the proper floor, and they ascended up to the thirty-first floor of the underground tower, just one of many like it in the underground city under the Federal Megalopolis. 

Soon, they found the appropriate apartment, and Wildstar rang the bell. 

Teri opened the door. "Hello, Nova...hello, Captain," she said with a smile. "Would you both come in?" 

"Sure," said Nova, who came in, Teri noticed, on Wildstar's arm. 

As soon as they came in, Wildstar looked around. The apartment was typical of many such apartments in the underground Megalopolis. However, Wildstar noticed, as Nova went into the kitchen with her mother, that it was decorated in a manner somewhat less contemporary than that of other such apartments. The living room walls were covered with wallpaper in a pale gold pattern, and the curtains on the windows were pink, with a light floral pattern. 

Karl guided him to a couch covered in dark brown leatherette that was before a simulated walnut coffee table. "I see you have some books," said Wildstar. 

"Yes, Teri's quite the reader," chuckled Karl. 

"Mind if I take a look?" asked Derek tentatively. 

"Not at all. Like a drink?" 

"Well," began Wildstar. "I have to get your daughter home safely..." 

"Come now, one won't hurt," laughed Karl. 

"All right," said Derek. 

"Scotch is okay?" 

"Scotch?" asked Wildstar with some surprise. 

"One of the few things in here that's not government-issue. It's from my old stock before this trouble started," said Karl. "I wouldn't ever think of giving you that rapidly synthesized stuff the government's been putting out lately and calling 'gin'." Karl walked over to a cabinet and opened it. "They synthesized this stuff around the beginning of the year but at least had the decency to let it age for a few months. We bought it in the summer," said Karl as he carried over a decanter of golden liquid. "However, I still think it's kind of sharp. That's all right?" 

"Of course," said Wildstar, who wasn't particularly a great drinker or connoisseur of liquor, even though he enjoyed sake, beer, or wine on special occasions 

"I'll be right back. Let me get a glass." 

As Karl took the decanter into the kitchen, Derek began to page through the book. It was a large, illustrated book on music, specifically music of the 20th through 22nd centuries. 

Wildstar paged through it for a while, glancing at entries on Cole Porter, Ryu Sakamoto, The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, Neil Young, The Backstreet Boys, Puff Daddy, NeoTrash, Sean Lennon III, Unity and Vanity, Isaac O'Rourke, and Mio Tucker, and then noticed a second book sitting on the other side of the table. It concerned the history of the Denver and Rio Grande Western, one of the North American continent's old wheeled stream railroads of the 20th century. 

Derek found this book a little more interesting; so much so that he was surprised by Karl's arrival back in the living room with two glasses of Scotch-and-water. 

"Interesting?" chuckled Karl. 

"Why, yes," said Wildstar. "When I was young, on Great Island, my parents once took me to a museum around Yokohama where they had a large display of the old steam engines and cars, along with a few examples of the old fossil-fueled warplanes that survived the Unification Wars." 

"Sounds interesting," said Karl as Derek sampled some of the Scotch. "How is it?" 

"Not bad," said Wildstar, smacking his lips with satisfaction. "What's Nova up to?" 

"Catching up on things with her mother, and helping to slice up the pot roast. Soya protein, of course. What I wouldn't give right now to be back in Boulder getting ready to enjoy some real beef. So much was better before all these wars. I'm sorry if the Scotch is a little sharp...but...even I don't know of too many people who have the real pre-war stuff, that is, the stuff they made and set aside before the Gamilons ruined everything. One of the few exceptions happens to be my brother-in-law...but his wife would kill him if he let any of it out of the house...not that she approves of drinking to begin with." 

"What's she like?" 

"She's a religious fanatic," said Karl. "Started out decent and church-going like the rest of us...in the family... but she got hooked up with some _very _strange fundamentalists a few years back, and ever since then, she's been excoriating her husband, her son, and us for keeping sinful life-styles. I take it you're a Buddhist?" 

"I was born into that faith but came to my own convictions when I was about fourteen," said Wildstar. "It happened after my parents died...when I was in a church-run orphanage on Great Island for a while." 

"Shame about your parents," sighed Karl with a shake of his head. "I would've liked to have met them. Any other relatives?" 

"Just my brother, Alex...but, as you know, he's on Iscandar with Queen Starsha. I don't ever expect to see him again," said Wildstar sadly. 

"You never know where the_ Argo _might take you. Maybe you and Nova will meet him again. You know...I'm glad we were able to get together tonight," said Karl. "It's not often we have an authentic hero coming over to visit us."

"Thanks..," said Wildstar with a flush on his cheeks as Nova quietly came in. 

"Oh! I have to amend that," said Karl. "Let's make that...hero and heroine." 

"Papa...I was only doing what I get paid to do," said Nova with a blush on her face as she sat down beside her fiancée'." 

Karl chuckled. "You know...both of you are far too modest? You've both done a great deal for Earth. I had your press conference on while I was in the office today...you sounded great." 

"Thanks," said Wildstar, as it suddenly occurred to him that he and Nova had mentioned their engagement during the conference! Immediately, he began to feel jittery, hoping that Nova's parents hadn't seen that part of the talk, especially since he felt that such things had asked of fathers in person. 

"I didn't get to see it all, I'm afraid," said Karl. "A client called up just as you were talking to the reporter from _Yomiuri Shimbun _and I had to turn the report off." 

__

Thank God, thought Wildstar, as he realized that Karl hadn't heard the incriminating part of the speech. 

Both of them heard a telephone going off. "Excuse me a moment," said Karl as he went over and picked it up. 

"Hello, Orin?" he said as the face of his law partner and old friend, Orin Fisher, the father of Nova's friend Natalie, appeared on the screen. 

"Hi, Karl." 

"Where are you?" 

"The Boulder office." 

"Oh! Is it okay over there?" 

"We took an indirect hit a few kilometers south of the Denver Megalopolis itself, but it seems that Zordar's aim wasn't too good. Denver's okay," said Orin in his rather genial usual manner. 

"How's the house?" 

"Drove past it before. My place is fine, the church is fine, and it doesn't look like your house took any damage, either. When are you coming back out?" 

"I'll see about it on Sunday if I can get a flight in time." 

"Great," said Orin. "Jury selection for _Hartnell v. Mazur _is still on for Monday, and we'd like you out here if you have no big business in the Capital. I don't want to put that new associate in Colorado Superior Court on for that kind of case." 

"Orin, can I ring off for now? I've got company." 

"Who?" 

"My daughter and her boyfriend. I'm really talking to him for the first time tonight." 

"Okay. I'll letcha go, Karl. Try to get out here Sunday." 

"Will do if I can. Take care, Orin." 

"Bye, Karl." 

The conversation ended. "Sorry about the delay, you two," said Karl. "Nova...are you drinking anything?" 

"No, dad...I'm not in the mood," said Nova softly. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Mother. She asked me when I was going to _'settle down and get out of the military'_." 

Karl took a deep breath and said, "Nova, you know your mother. She wants you to settle down with someone and be a good mother and wife." 

"Nova?" asked Derek with concern in his voice. 

"Derek...nothing's changing my mind about what we've discussed," she said firmly. "I don't care what she says or does." 

"I know," he said. 

Karl immediately guessed that a major argument had gone on between Nova and Teri about her future, and cleared his throat in order to change the subject. "About your mission...Captain...when did you guess that the White Comet was a threat to Earth?" 

"It all started out when I was heading home from a years' patrol with the Third Interplanetary Patrol Squadron of the Defense Forces, and we were attacked by an unidentified enemy squadron. At about the same time, we intercepted a powerful message, which turned out to be from Trelaina of Telezart, which damaged the _Argo's _communications systems. Not long after we landed, the great blackout took place, and the day afterwards, Nova, Commander Venture, and I met with Stephen Sandor, our old Mechanical Group Leader. He had just discovered a strange energy beam emanating from a strange white comet that had just been discovered on our scanners. From all of those clues, we guessed that there was a threat to Earth, so Sandor and I took our case to the Earth Defense Council, which refused us permission to leave and investigate the threat. So, after a lot of soul-searching...in which Nova helped...we decided we had to commandeer the _Argo _and leave Earth, with or without permission, to investigate the threat of the White Comet." 

"That's very brave...risking your career like that. Nova, how did you get involved in this?" 

"Everyone who left on this mission volunteered to go," said Nova firmly. "I was one of those volunteers...and I left because I wanted to help in the mission...and be at Derek's side." 

"I see. And, on the mission...?" 

"We followed the source of the transmissions to Telezart, where we found that Trelaina wished to meet with us and talk to us about the Comet Empire. On the way, as you probably know, we were opposed by the forces of the Comet Empire, as well as by Desslok of Gamilon." 

"How did he survive your last battle?" asked Karl. "Nova, you told us that he died then, didn't you?" 

"We don't know," said Nova. "As a matter of fact, that's still a mystery to us. Even though a lot of us didn't believe it was him...it _was_ really him. But, we fought our way past him to Telezart. There...Trelaina told us about the true nature of the White Comet...and we also observed that she had fallen in love with Commander Venture, who was very much taken with her; and it's no wonder. She was... very beautiful. Mark tried to convince her to come with us...but she wouldn't," said Nova softly. "Instead...she had decided to remain behind to make her stand and face down Zordar and his Comet Empire. She sacrificed her whole planet...to help us...and help Mark." 

"It sounds like you both were part of a very stirring story," said Karl. 

"You could say we were. When we arrived back in the solar system, Admiral Gideon had us launch a surprise attack on the Comet Empire's carrier task forces, since we knew that in a battle, their carrier planes could hurt us a great deal with their speed and range. We defeated the carrier fleet, and then assisted in the tail end of the engagement with the rest of the Comet Empire's fleet. We had them defeated...when...to our surprise, the Comet itself warped into the middle of our fleet and destroyed the bulk of it." 

"I know that part of the story, too...especially since my brother-in-law was on one of those ships." 

"Your brother-in-law?" murmured Wildstar, as Nova went silent and suddenly cried out, "_Uncle Hiram?_" as tears began to form in her eyes. 

"They told us that he was commanding the patrol cruiser _Danube _near the edge of the battle area when the comet warped in. At about that time, they lost contact with his ship, and it's been logged as "missing-presumed lost in action," said Karl. "They notified your mother because she was next-of-kin, after Yvona, her crazy sister, of course. However, your mother said Yvona's nowhere to be found." 

"As usual," sniffed Nova. "She doesn't even have the decency to be around when her husband...made a sacrifice on behalf of Earth! How's Samuel taking it?" 

"I haven't heard from him...I don't know." 

"He's probably not doing that well," said Nova as she wiped tears from her eyes. "He and his dad were much closer than he and his mother." 

"Nova, here," said Wildstar as he withdrew a hanky from the inner pocket of his peacoat. 

"Thanks, Derek," replied Nova with a wan smile. 

Teri ran in her apron, crying, "Nova, you're okay?" 

"I'm fine," Nova said quickly as she handed Derek his hanky. "I just heard about...Uncle Hiram, that's all." 

"I hope that you're not the next one that we end up crying over," said Teri. "You know what I was talking about before! Could you come into the bedroom with me for a second, please? I'd still like to show you those pictures." 

"No," said Nova firmly. "Especially not _tonight!_" 

"Why not?" 

"Derek...please excuse me for a moment," whispered Nova softly, "but I have to talk to my mother in private before dinner. All right?" 

"Okay," said Wildstar as she left. By the look on his face, he was clearly mystified as to what was going on. 

****

*******

Nova and her mother stepped into the bedroom, and Nova quietly but firmly closed the door. 

"Nova, why are you doing that?" 

"Because, Mother, I don't care to have my _fiancée'_, who is sitting outside, hearing this!" 

"Fiancée'?" said Teri with a shocked look on her face. 

"Yes, my fiancée.' I'm sorry I have to say this, but it has to be said sometime. Mother, I'm not interested in the pictures of eligible young men that you've been collecting in that photo album, and I thought that those moments I spent with that stupid professional tennis player you seated me with at my cousin Nicole's wedding were among the most _nauseating _moments of my life!" 

"Why? I thought he was wonderful for you then..." 

"Mama, I appreciate the effort you made for me...but sitting there with a boring person who is just talking about settling down in the suburbs with a wife and three children when the man you love is off in space is not my idea of a good time...especially not when he has a little too much gin and begins putting his hand on your leg under the table." 

"Robert did_ that?_" 

Nova nodded. "And he ever tries that around my fiancée', well..." 

"Fiancée'!" cried Teri. "When did... you... and... and...he...get...?" 

"Not at all long ago," said Nova with a smile on her face. 

"Then you're leaving the military?" cried Teri with a smile on her face. 

"No." 

"But..." 

"Mother, you'll hear all about it over dinner," laughed Nova. "But, take that book and put it away. Or, give it to Cousin Jane's mother? We don't ever need to go over this again, all right?" smiled Nova, but in a tone of voice that brooked no opposition. 

"Okay," said Teri, who was both elated and a bit taken aback at all this. 

"Let's go out and have dinner now," said Nova. "I think the roast is ready, and our men out there are probably going to start demanding to be fed any minute." 

"Okay, Nova." 

Both women left the bedroom a moment later. Soon, dinner was started in the kitchen. The Forresters had been allotted an early-design underground apartment that included a kitchen; most of the later-design apartments did not include one. Karl was at the head of the square table, with Teri at his left hand, and Derek, the guest of honor, at his right hand. Nova sat at the foot of the table, with Derek and her mother at each side.

After Teri said grace, slices of the pot roast were served, along with gravy, potatoes au gratin, and some broccoli and peas in their pods, along with apple sauce. Apple juice was served by Nova, who was told in a whispered conversation with her father near the counter to "save the best for last." Nova, who was a little unsure what he meant, nodded compliance while returning the bottle of juice to the refrigerator. 

As they ate, Karl continued to regale Derek and Nova with questions about the _Argo's_ latest mission. They both retold the story, with Nova noticing that Derek was pointedly refraining from telling Karl and Teri all that had happened on the first bridge during the last part of the mission. Guessing that Derek wanted to keep the cat in the bag, Nova also refrained from speaking the her father about their engagement. 

"So, _that's_ what happened to Desslok?" asked Teri, who, to Nova's surprise, had been taking an interest in what they had been doing. 

"Yes, Mother. He just left after he told us to attack the Comet City at the bottom." 

"You thought his advice was trustworthy?" 

"Yes, Mother. I did." 

"Why?" 

"His mannerisms. He refrained from shooting Derek...he refrained from shooting me...and he honestly seemed to be feeling regret for the path he had taken. He said, _'Maybe I would do it again...but I don't think so....there has to be a better way of life_.'" 

"Then?" 

"Then...he said he saw that example...in Derek and I...and the way we felt about each other...and Earth." 

"And...you wanted to protect Derek that badly?" 

"Yes, Mother...to my last breath, if need be." 

Teri sat in surprise and amazement. "Nova...if you had told me you had felt that deeply for him..." 

"I do. I'm surprised you never noticed before," laughed Nova. 

"I noticed," chimed in Karl as everyone's eyes went wide. 

"Teri, I know you," said Karl. "I know the look that you get in your eyes whenever you talk about me at a party or at one of your recitals with your string quintet back in Boulder. In case you haven't noticed, I happened to notice the same faraway, longing, admiring look in your daughter's eyes about six months ago whenever she came home and talked about a certain young man sitting at this table. I guessed that she had fallen for him, and had fallen quite hard. I guessed she'd fall for someone like that while serving with the Star Force, even though I remember, Nova, that you laughed at the idea when we discussed it when you called home that time. I wondered why she'd fallen so hard for him, but now, having met the young man, I can see why. Nova, I admire your taste." 

"Thank you," said Nova softly. Nova and Derek exchanged a quick glance, and Derek cleared his throat. Nova noticed his hand was trembling as he put down his fork and took her hand. 

"Mr. Forrester?" he said in a determined voice. 

"Yes?" 

"May I take the liberty of standing up for a moment? There's something I'd like to ask you." 

"Of course," said Karl as Teri's heart began to beat very hard. 

Derek, stood up, his hand never leaving Nova's. "There happens to be a detail that I purposely left out before when I described what transpired between your daughter and I on the_ Argo's _first bridge. That detail is that I felt guilty that our respective duties have kept Nova and I apart, but, that when we finished what we had to do to defeat Prince Zordar, we would spend the rest of our lives together. Hence, I proposed marriage to your daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Forrester, a proposal which she eagerly accepted. We have been able to secure the proper permission from our commanding officer, and the proper papers are being filed at Earth Defense Headquarters. Mister Forrester, I would like to take your daughter's hand in marriage on the twenty-sixth of December, and we would like to have your blessing." 

Karl and Teri looked at each other in surprise, impressed by the young Deputy Captain's poise, courtesy, and formality. Then, they looked at Derek and Nova, and nodded to each other. 

A moment later, Karl walked over to Derek and warmly took his hand as tears began to run from Teri's eyes. In a calm, but somewhat husky voice he said, "You have our blessing. Welcome to the family, Deputy Captain! Teri, why are you crying?" 

"No reason! I'm just so happy...that's all!" sniffed Teri. 

"That's good," said Karl as he walked over and put his arm around his wife. After he was done comforting her, he asked, "Well, you two...have you given any thought as to where you're going to go to get married?" 

"No...we haven't," said Nova. "We've...been sort of busy." 

"Yeah...doing things like...dodging the media." 

"Dodging the media...hmmm. Well, has he ever seen what the Greater Denver Megalopolis looks like?" 

"No...I don't think so," said Nova. "Derek. Have you ever seen Denver, or its suburb, Boulder?" 

"No, I can't say I have," said Derek. 

"Well, that's where I grew up," said Nova. 

"Well, why don't we hold the wedding at Rockies Outlook Church, where you were raised? You know it was rebuilt after the Gamilon War, and, as my associate said before in his phone call, it's all right. Also, incidentally...I think your wedding can more or less be hidden from the usual paparazzi if we hold it out in Boulder in the States." 

"Great!" said Nova. 

"Who called?" asked Teri. 

"Orin called up," he replied. "The house in Boulder is fine. He wants me out there Sunday night for that trial on Monday." 

"Well, I guess I can take care of getting everything up into the apartment here...if it's okay," said Teri. 

"We'll do it together," said Karl. 

"But I'm coming to Denver with you," insisted Teri in a tone and manner that Wildstar had seen a thousand times before in his fiancée'. "We have to start planning our daughter's wedding! You know reception hall reservations don't grow on trees, Karl Forrester!" 

"Yes, I know that," laughed Karl. 

Wildstar sighed. "Well, we have at least one thing in common," he said. 

"And that is?" asked Karl. 

Derek put an arm around Nova. "Sir, the women that we happen to love are both very, _very _strong-willed." 

"Is that a _compliment?_" huffed Nova. 

"Karl, _what is that supposed to mean?_" blurted out Teri a second later. 

Then, both Derek and Karl looked at each other and began to laugh as both Nova and Teri gave them withering looks. 

* * *

Later that evening (after, of course, having reconciled from their little tiff at her parents' apartment), Derek and Nova were walking through the corridors of Central Hospital towards Mark Venture's room in the Intensive Care section. 

"It's too quiet up here," said Wildstar. "No talking or joking around or anything like that."

"It's supposed to be quiet," said Nova softly. "You know that the people up here aren't in the best of shape." 

"That's what I mean," said Derek. "It's not like in Hardy's room...or in Sandor's, where you expect to interact like...you know...guys..with your friends. Up here..." 

"I know," said Nova. "And I don't want to think about it! Poor Mark. I hope he'll be all right," said Nova as they came up to Venture's room where, Wildstar noticed a familiar figure, namely Natalie Fisher, the same nurse who had been on duty last night. 

"Hi," said Wildstar. 

"Hi," she said softly. "Hi, Nova," she whispered. "I met your fiancée last night. Congratulations." 

"Thank you," said Nova. "How's Commander Venture?", she asked, as they entered the room and looked on sadly at Mark, who was lying still in his bed. There was no sound save for the soft , steady beeps of the instruments that monitored the still, comatose form of Lieutenant Commander Mark Venture. 

"The family just left a while ago. His younger brother was holding his hand and trying to get him to wake up. It was heartbreaking. As you can see...it didn't work." 

"How is he medically?" whispered Nova. "Doctor Sane and I had a hard time getting any brain readings from him at all last night." 

Natalie paused to examine a display at close range, her light complexion highlighted in the green glow of the monitor for a moment as she sighed, "His alpha and theta wave readings are still below all optimal levels..." 

"Don't talk so loud," said Nova. 

"What do you mean? He can't hear us?" 

"I think he can," said Nova. "I'm sure he can respond to something, even if only to the voices of his friends talking to him. Derek, come over and say hello to Mark." 

"Mark," said Wildstar as he picked up one of Venture's limp hands. "Hey. This is Wildstar. You'd better wake up and get better now! We need you. Trelaina brought you back to us for a reason. You've got work to do, as soon as you come out of this. We're all pushing for you...Hardy, Conroy, and Sandor just told me to say hi to you, and Nova's here. Nova?" 

"Mark?" said Nova softly as she took his hand. "This is Nova. Trelaina would want you to get better. You've got to come out of this. Okay?" 

There was no response, save for the beeping of the instruments. 

"See what I mean?" sighed Natalie. 

"Natalie," said Nova. "Remember, ...be careful when you talk about his condition. He CAN hear us in this state, you know." 

"Okay," nodded Fisher as she made a few entries in Venture's chart. "You two can try a little longer, Nova. But, you've got to clear out in half an hour, before Doctor Sane notices we're bending the rules by letting you visit too long, okay?" 

"Okay," said Wildstar. 

Suddenly, all three of them started as a piercing cry came from the bed. 

"VENTURE!" cried Nova as she and Derek leaped up to the edge of the bed, followed by Fisher. 

"Derek...Nova...get back...his vital signs are going crazy!" 

"Uh.....," groaned Venture in a husky voice. "Trelaina! _Trelaina!_ Don't..." 

"Venture...what?" asked Wildstar. 

"Wildstar...he's only dreaming," said Natalie. "He's..." 

"No, he's not!" said Nova firmly as she clasped Venture's hand, while looking at his readouts with a note of alarm. His pulse rate had gone up tremendously. 

"Derek...help me talk to him...I think he's coming around, but he has to be kept calm." 

"Okay!" Derek's joined hers as she said, "Mark..?" 

"Don't go!" he cried in a loud voice as his eyes fluttered open and he stared at a point up towards the ceiling, looking at something only he could see. "Please...don't..," he said in a bereaved, small voice as tears ran down his cheeks. 

An eternity passed, and Venture shut his eyes. Then, he lay there sobbing for a long while, just moaning, "Don't go...", in the most pain-filled voice any of them had ever heard from him. Finally, Mark stopped, and went quiet again. 

The sensors slowed down as Doctor Sane ran in with another nurse. "What happened?" he demanded. 

"Nova and Wildstar were talking to him," said Natalie, "and he sort of awoke and began screaming about Trelaina of Telezart. He seemed to be responsive for a moment, and then he..." 

"In case you didn't notice, your patient's heart rate went up so much that he almost had a coronary!" snapped Dr. Sane. "Nova! Didn't you notice?" 

"I did...and we took his hand and began to talk to him. His vitals stabilized after that..." 

"And, then, I guess, he went back to sleep," said Doctor Sane. "I don't understand this. It's the strangest thing I've ever seen in my life. Hmmmm....His coma doesn't seem to be as deep...but I think he should be kept quiet. We don't want that happening again. Natalie, no visitors until we know what's behind this." 

"Doctor Sane, I think he needs visitors," said Nova. "Otherwise, he might never quite come around," she whispered. 

"Otherwise, Nova, we could lose him. It's only a temporary measure until I figure out what's going on here. Still....I'm glad you and Wildstar came. He just doesn't need any more excitement right now. I think he's been through quite enough excitement for a while," said Sane, looking back at the still form on the bed. 

"So do I," said Nova. "Rest well, Mark." 

"Mark, take it easy," said Wildstar softly. At that, both of them left. 

* * *

****

III. DOWNTOWN 

****

Earth 

****

Federal Megalopolis 

****

Shinjuku Peninsula 

****

November 17, 2201 

****

0938 Hours--Spacetime 

* * *

Autumn weather could be a peculiar thing on Great Island. It was possible to have a string of mild days, followed by a string of blustery, raw days. 

It was a somewhat mild day as Nova Forrester emerged from a crowded Tube train in what was still referred to as Shinjuku, even though the topographical changes wrought by the Gamilon planet bombings had long ago led to the disappearance of most of the ancient topography of old Tokyo. 

As Nova came out of the maglev train's station around Miyama Avenue and Fiftieth Street, she walked briskly through the early-morning crowd in what was still a bustling commercial district, even though the central part of the Federal Megalopolis had actually shifted to another part of the huge international city. 

Nova looked around for a moment, glancing up and down Miyama through the slightly tinted sunglasses she was wearing as a quick, improvised disguise with a favorite pink and maroon dress and maroon calf-length boots .It was the same outfit she had worn on the _Argo_ at one point on the mission to Iscandar...before IQ-9 had made her look foolish before many of the male members of the Star Force with his "Hiya, CUTIE!" comment, that is. _The comment he made before he lifted my dress_, she thought with a blush. _And I was trying to model it!_

She was surprised to notice that this part of Shinjuku looked fairly undamaged, save for the few omnipresent roadblocks blocking off the occasional hole in the street or pool of subsiding water on Miyama Avenue. Glancing up at the buildings for a second (knowing that it made her look a little like a tourist), she noticed that only a few of the windows looked boarded up. 

__

What happened? she thought. _It looks a lot worse in the Capitol District, across the river. There, windows no...buildings, were ruined by the blasts and so many of the things down by the docks were flooded..._

Nova turned to a young woman in a cloth cap and pantsuit who was walking a dog, and said, "Excuse me...I just got into town. Why doesn't this look as bad as it does across the river?" 

"Zordar just kind of missed the peninsula, I guess," laughed the young woman. "Well...except for some burning shrapnel that flew right across the river and hit the West Side. You add that to the fog that was created thanks to those floods that came up to Ninth Avenue and Second Avenue on both sides because of that tsunami that was created when the Comet Empire landed off in the ocean, and you'll have some minor chaos. The news about this was everywhere!" cried the young woman. "Surprised you didn't hear about it. Where'd **you** get in here from?" 

"Denver, in North America," said Nova, lying conveniently to disguise her identity, as well as the fact that she'd spent the past few weeks of her life in a place that most definitely was NOT the area of her childhood home town. 

"Figures," said the young lady, rolling her eyes. "You sound like someone from someplace out in the sticks." 

"You have a beautiful dog," said Nova, looking down at her companion's Dalmatian. "Mind if I pet him?" 

"Her," laughed the young New Yorker. "And...well...Lady doesn't exactly like to be petted by strangers...she's deaf, you see, like a lot of her breed. But, she is beautiful, isn't she?" 

"Aren't Dalmatians one of the few pure breeds that survived the bombings?" 

"Yeah, they are," said the young woman. "You seem to know quite a bit about dogs; wish my boyfriend knew that much..." 

Both of them laughed, until the young woman eyed Nova and said, "Hey...you look kinda familiar..." 

"Do I?" asked Nova. 

"Yeah...coulda sworn I..." 

"You'll pardon me," giggled Nova, "But...I've got an appointment I have to make, okay? I have to go...nice talking with you..." 

"Yeah, you too," said the young lady as Nova disappeared into a group of people. The young woman stood there, stroked Lady, and asked, "Now, I wonder who that...?" 

"NO!" she cried out to herself as she glanced down at a corner vending machine that held a few newspapers. "It couldn't be...could it?" 

__

I hope the press isn't following me around, thought Nova as she glanced up and down the street again. After guessing she was safe, Nova walked north to fifty-second. There, she pushed her way through a revolving door into Pushkin's, the flagship of a great worldwide department store chain that had been in existence since about the middle of the twenty-second century. 

Pushkin's was a mildly pricey but somewhat trendy chain, newer, and without the reputation of the even more expensive and traditional planetwide chain known as Conklin's. Nova was there today to pick up two new dresses, because something told her that sooner or later, she'd have to go out in something other than her uniform; and she didn't feel that her current wardrobe was quite enough for one of the upcoming parties she'd end up at. 

__

Also, she thought as she walked towards a bank of elevators, _Maybe, I can stick my head in the bridal department and see what they have; although I know Mother swears by Conklin's for that sort of thing..._

Nova went up to the seventh floor, and emerged in the Misses' section. While walking towards the dress section, she was greeted by a salesperson who asked what she was looking for. 

"Oh...something for a party...cut sort of like this," said Nova, signifying what she had on, "But... maybe showing a little more around the neck..." 

"In what size?" 

Nova gave her size, and the clerk said, "I believe I have just the right thing for you...over here...let's have a look..," said the clerk while guiding Nova towards a rack. 

****

*******

Outside, on Miyama Avenue, Lady's owner had deposited some change into a pay videophone. "Jack?" she called out when the image came up. 

"Sheri? Where are you?" 

"Uptown." 

"Why are you calling? Editor's got me on a deadline. There's supposed to be some kind of big ceremony going on today at the Presidential Palace for some of the Star Force." 

"Listen. Interested in a human interest story?" 

"Sheri. Listen up. I am about to go and photograph some hard news in about three hours. I have just enough time to shower, eat, and load my camera. Do you get what I'm saying? I've been run ragged the past few days, what with all this stuff about the Star Force, the reconstruction of the Fleet, and that tour they gave of the new space battleship _Kirishima_, when we met that Vice Admiral Eckart guy. After having just talked with the second-in-command of the Combined Fleet, and going to see some of the Star Force in a few hours, can't you GUESS that I'm not interested in a darn human interest story?" 

"This human interest story, Jack, has a LOT to do with the Star Force. Guess who I think I just spotted going up into Pushkin's..." 

A few minutes later, Nova emerged from a dressing room in the clerk's choice. "How do you like it?" asked the clerk as Nova stood on a carpeted surface in the dress and her boots before three large mirrors. 

"Nice," said Nova as she looked at herself. The knee-length dress was a pale pink, with a black stripe around the waist. It fit her specifications nicely. "Do the sleeves look okay to you?" asked Nova while holding up an arm, and looking one of the puff sleeves. 

"They look great," said the salesgirl. "Although I'd wear a choker with that..." 

"I've got one," commented Nova whiling smiling at herself in the mirror. All around, the dress seemed to fit very well. After a moment, she said, "I'll take it. Can you wrap it up for me?" 

"Sure." 

* * *

After Nova changed back into her old dress and brought out the one she had tried on, she paid for the new one with a fair amount of credits (and silently thanked herself for having stopped by the bank that morning) and then went over to the bridal department for a few minutes. 

As soon as she went in, she knew that they were putting pressure on her to emerge from the department with a bridal gown. 

One or two of the styles looked halfway nice, but the rest didn't suit her. She made a note that she might come back (with her mother, of course), and thanked the clerks for their attention, not even having tried anything on. 

Glancing at her watch, Nova realized she had wasted a good thirty-five minutes looking at bridal gowns she wasn't intending to buy. Remembering that she had a lot to do, she ran down to the shoe department, deciding to grab a pair of shoes to go with her new dress and then leave. 

Sheri, who was still hanging around outside Pushkin's, met Jack and a carload of his colleagues at about the time Nova was trying on her first pair of shoes. 

"Hi, Sheri," said Jack as he gave her a smooch. 

"Hi. Who are these guys?" 

"Well, you know I'm a photographer. These guys are all from the network." 

"Yeah," said one of them as he got out a portable video camera. "And if we can spot Forrester on her own, like you said, we can pin her down with a ton of questions." 

"What are you going to do?" asked Sheri, who suddenly felt really uncomfortable about this." 

"Ask her why she REALLY participated in the mutiny a few weeks ago...and ask her what she REALLY thinks of Wildstar," barked a reporter. 

"Why?" 

"Haven't you heard the rumor?" said another reporter. "Rumor has it she's jumping to get married because she's pregnant but hasn't told anyone yet." 

"Pregnant? I haven't heard..." 

"Relax, Sheri," laughed Jack. "If we pin her down, you'll get a hundred credits out of the deal." 

"Pin her down?" 

"Yeah. We're staking out all the exits," laughed another guy as he came out with a camera. 

Sheri began to feel just a bit sick. _What did I do?_ she thought. _I thought it was just going to be Jack!_

"How do those feel?" asked the clerk in the shoe department as Nova walked around in a pair of dark purple pumps. 

"Okay," said Nova as she walked around. "But...they ARE sticking to my feet a little bit." 

"You should've worn stockings under those boots rather than those knee socks you had to take off," laughed the sales clerk. 

"Thanks to this shortage that began to crop up in September, I've been trying to preserve my stockings; I really only wear what I have to work in Defense Headquarters...or at least I will when I come off my leave," said Nova. "I checked three departments before. You still can't get stockings in a lot of places?" 

"The shortage has only gotten worse since the war with the Cometines," said the clerk. "Like the shoes?" 

"Yes...I think I'll take them, as a matter of fact," said Nova. "But, I think I'd also like something dressier...and slightly more comfortable...in pink...." 

"I think I've got something that'll fill the bill for you. I'll be right back," said the clerk as she took off Nova's pumps and put them in a box. 

The clerk came out a minute later with another box. Nova smiled as soon as the box was opened, even though she hoped that it wouldn't get too cold too soon. 

What the clerk pulled out of the box was a conservative but nice pink pair of open sandals. Nova buckled them on and began walking around, observing that while they pinched (like all new shoes) they didn't stick to her feet quite as much. 

"I think," said Nova as she sat down, "that this solves the stocking problem...if it doesn't suddenly drop below freezing and stay there." 

"Why do these solve your problem?" 

"I never wear stockings with sandals if I can help it," said Nova. "I think it defeats the whole purpose of letting your toes come out and say 'hi' to the world, so to speak. I'll take these. but I've GOT to get another pair of stockings for those pumps." 

"Good luck," laughed the salesgirl. "I'm just praying that what I've got on doesn't get a run." 

"Get a long skirt and boots, and a nice, comfy pair of socks," said Nova as she pulled her pink socks back on and reached for her boots, "and that'll solve your problem." 

"Thanks," laughed the clerk as Nova stood a moment later and she took her purchases to the counter. 

* * *

Nova was whistling a romantic song under her breath and thinking of Derek as she walked towards the exit in her boots and nice conservative dress, merrily carrying her two shopping bags...and wondering if she'd have to visit the bank again early next week. 

She emerged into the lobby, and began to turn the revolving door. 

It went for about a meter or two, and then stopped. 

"What...what's wrong with this thing?" she cried. 

Then, Jack and his friends burst out, seemingly from nowhere. 

Nova's eyes went wide with shock and surprise as she was caught in a hail of electronic flashes, video camera lights, and shouted questions. 

"Why did you participate in the mutiny, Miss Forrester?" 

"Were you scared when you confronted Desslok?" 

"How do you really feel about Derek Wildstar?" 

"Is it true you're getting married?" 

"Are you expecting a baby?" 

"When's the baby on the way?" 

"Excuse me...I'm not prepared to answer all these questions at once," said Nova, who was trying to keep some poise in this encounter. 

"ARE you getting married?" 

"Yes, I am...although the wedding's not going to take place for a few weeks..." 

"What about Zordar? Do you think he's really dead?" 

"He seemed to be when Trelaina finished him off...." 

"What about the Earth government? How do you feel about Commanding General Charles Singleton?" 

"I can't say much about the government right now...and I have a lot of respect for the Commander..." 

"Is it true you're expecting a baby?" 

"NO!" cried Nova. "I'm _not_!" 

"She is!" yelled another reporter. "When's the baby on the way?" yelled someone else. 

"It's not going to be," said Nova firmly. 

"Why not?" yelled someone else. 

"Because I'm not _about to have_ a baby!" replied Nova in a strong voice. "If you'll excuse me...please..." 

Two of the reporters blocked the door while others shouted more questions about the rumored "baby". 

__

Where are some of these reporters FROM? thought Nova in panic. _The scandal sheets?_

"What about you and the Captain?" yelled another reporter. 

"We're getting married in December!" cried Nova. "Because I have a career, there's not going to be a baby until after we're married for several years, at least, all right? Is that enough?" 

"We hear there's one on the way!" yelled someone else. 

"What about these denials of yours?" barked someone who was shoving a microphone in her face. 

"Please!" cried Nova. "I've TOLD you what you want to know!" 

"Did you participate in the mutiny because of your personal life?" yelled another reporter. 

"I went with the Star Force because I believed in their cause!" said Nova. "Now, will you let me go? I have places to go today!" 

The crowd of reporters descended in even tighter, and Nova just turned her face to one side as the cameras kept on going off. She pushed the revolving door, hard, but two reporters were still holding it. Finally, Nova gasped, "Will you leave me alone? PLEASE? I've told you everything!" she snapped, with a trembling lip. 

Finally, she kicked at the techtite door, and it flew out of the reporters' grasp. Over a babble of questions, she managed to squeeze her way through the crowd, not caring that one of her bags was getting ripped. 

Forcing her way out onto the curbside, she noticed a red EDF staff aircar pulling up. Slightly panicked, she waved for help, and was greeted by one of the nicest sights of her life when the canopy opened. 

"Derek!" she cried. 

"Nova! What are you doing here?" he asked as she ran towards the car. She jumped in, pulling her bags in after her in a disorderly mess as the canopy whirred closed, while saying, "I was TRYING to shop...until those reporters descended on me! Get us out of here, quick!" 

"She's in the car!" someone yelled. 

"Quick!" 

The reporters began to surge towards the aircar, but Wildstar was too quick for them, rocketing away from the curb into traffic before they could react with anything except a number of camera flashes. 

"That was close..." said Derek. "Are you all right now?" 

"Yes...and no..." said Nova, betraying tearfulness for the first time. "They...they were asking me all sorts of crazy things...like what did I think of this policy or that policy, and why did I go on the mutiny...and they were also asking personal things about us...I told them when the wedding would be...but they kept on going and going! They seem to have this idea I'm pregnant or something..." 

"What?" said Derek. "That's CRAZY!" 

"Derek, when we get married, can we find a place away from these reporters? Please?" 

"I'm sure we can, Nova...they've been giving me a bit of a hard time, too." 

"Please, Derek?" cried Nova. "LOOK at this!" she sobbed, holding up one of her ripped bags as one of the shoeboxes tumbled out, spilling her new shoes on the floorboard of the car. "I can't even go shopping in peace! I want to be safe...safe with you...I..I..." 

Finally, while stopped at a light, Nova just began to sob her heart out. Derek noticed, and held her hand for a moment, until the light changed. When it did, he went through and then pulled over onto a side street, where he parked, stopped the engine, and just began to comfort Nova by hugging her and whispering her name over and over again. 

__

She's right, he thought. _When WILL we have a moment's worth of peace together? WHEN?_

* * *

****

IV. HONORS AND ASSIGNMENTS 

****

Earth 

****

Federal Megalopolis 

****

Presidential Palace 

****

November 17, 2201 

****

1345 Hours--Spacetime 

* * *

Later that day, Wildstar, Forrester, Eager, Dash (who had just been released from the hospital) Doctor Sane, Paul Rosstowski, Blake Stemmerman (who was one of the Black Tigers who had survived the assault on the Comet Empire City), Neville Royster, and Thomas "Buzz" Rutherford were in attendance at ceremonies in the President Mendellsohn's office in the Presidential Palace, along with Commanding General Singleton and General Stone. 

To everyone's applause, the President placed an ornate gold medal around Wildstar's neck on a blue and red ribbon. This medal was the planet's highest award; the Sunburst of Honor, awarded for Wildstar's role in the _Argo's_ final attack upon Zordar, commencing with the Argo's attack upon the Comet Empire city and concluding with the attack upon the dreadnought. This was his second such award of this decoration; he had first been awarded this particular medal for his role in the Battle of Gamilon during the Star Force's journey to Iscandar. This medal had been placed over his first, even though in normal ceremonial wear involving his medals, he would wear his first Sunburst with a bronze palm. 

Wildstar stood proudly at attention as the citation was finished. Then, the President continued. "You are also being awarded the Purple Heart twice. The first award is for your wounds, which were earned with utter disregard to your own personal safety in remaining aboard the _Argo_ to oversee repairs in the ship's engine room under conditions of great danger." At that, the medal was pinned onto Wildstar's peacoat. 

"The Purple Heart is being awarded again for your extraordinary heroism in the operations against the Gamilon Fleet in the final confrontation with Desslok of Gamilon, ending with the personal confrontation with the Gamilon leader in which you were wounded, again with utter disregard for your own safety. By your willingness to make sacrifices on behalf of the people of Earth, your valor will always be remembered." 

Wildstar stood proudly as this medal was pinned to his peacoat next to his first Purple Heart. Then, the President also awarded Wildstar two more medals, a Medallion of Merit, which was a unit citation awarded to the entire Star Force, and one last medal; the second award of the Cometine Campaign Medal, released, without precedent, several weeks early. The first had been made, posthumously, to Admiral Gideon. 

"Deputy Captain," said the President after pinning on the last medal. "At a total of nine earned decorations, two of which are awards of the Sunburst of Honor, you stand as one of the most highly-decorated living members of the Defense Forces. But, more than that, you have the thanks of all of Earth for your heroism, as well as my thanks. Congratulations." 

Wildstar and the President exchanged salutes under the glare of the video network lamps and the flashes of many news cameras. 

Next, Venture's father David was present to receive the Sunburst of Honor, Purple Heart, Medallion of Merit, and Cometine Campaign Medal that his son had been awarded for his service in the conflict. He wept with pride when informed that his wounded son was also now one of the highly decorated living members of the Defense Forces. 

Then the President moved on down to Nova. After reading a citation for her bravery in aiding Wildstar during the final phase of the attack upon Zordar's ship, the President awarded her a second Sunburst of Honor. Her first such receipt of that medal had been for the emergency activation of the Cosmo-DNA during the _Argo's_ return to Earth from Iscandar; an act that had almost cost Nova her life but had saved the entire Iscandar mission. She had also earned a Medallion of Merit and a Gamilon Campaign Medal at that time, as well as a Purple Heart for having been wounded when she fell from the Cosmo DNA. Then, the President pinned a Medallion of Merit to Nova's blue peacoat along with a Cometine Campaign Medal. She now had eight medals, and four of them were shining on her breast right here. She looked down at the medals and blushed slightly, thinking, _I was just doing my job. I don't need all this gold, but thank you...I'll receive these honors graciously_

A cousin of Sandor's was present to receive his Sunburst of Honor, Medallion of Merit, and Cometine Campaign Medal. 

Eager was awarded a _Pour'L'Merite_, and a Purple Heart in addition to his Medallion of Merit, and his campaign medal. Dash was given the same awards, and Doctor Sane was awarded a Legion of Honor (for his role in evacuating the wounded during the evacuation of the Argo after Zordar had attacked it), a Medallion of Merit, and a campaign medal. 

Ensign Paul Rosstowski was awarded a Gold Cross for his service in the _Argo's _gun turret under heavy fire during the conflict, during which he had received a battlefield commission, as well as a Medallion of Merit and a campaign medal. He smiled a little; thinking back to the time his now ex-wife had said his service in the EDF would get him nowhere. _I certainly proved you wrong, Clarissa, didn't I?_ he thought for a moment as he looked at his award with awe. It would look very nice on a shelf next to the Bronze Cross he had earned during his little visit to Desslok's capital city on Gamilon with the Star Force in 2200. 

His friend, the rather solemn, crew-cut Black Tiger known as Blake Stemmerman, stood in silence as the President pinned a Blue Max to his peacoat, followed by two Purple Hearts, a Medallion of Merit, and a Cometine Campaign Medal. 

Neville Royster stood shaking as he received a Legion of Honor, Purple Heart, Medallion of Merit, and Cometine Campaign Medal. 

__

Not bad for someone who's scared of a meteor shower! he thought after he saluted. _I'll bet the girls will just ADORE me when I go out dancing with these on!_

Buzz, the last of the group, received a Blue Max, Purple Heart, Medallion of Merit, and Cometine Campaign medal. 

Finally, last of all, Allen Knox, a young nephew of Sergeant Knox, stood trembling with excitement and tears with his parents as he was awarded his late uncle's framed Sunburst of Honor, Purple Heart, Medallion of Merit, and Cometine Campaign Medal, as per the request in his uncle's will. 

At the end of the ceremony, all of the military personnel present again saluted the President, who returned the salute as he left. 

Outside, on the steps of the Presidential Palace, Wildstar, Nova, Eager, Dash, Dr. Sane, and Buzz were met by the press even before most of them managed to get their white service caps back on. This time, Wildstar noticed that a lot of the questions seemed to concern the reconstruction of the Fleet; they all assumed they had some special knowledge of such things (which they didn't). Feeling unqualified to answer these rather technical questions, Wildstar looked to his comrades, who indicated, as usual, with glances that he should answer for all of them. 

"I have no comment on what transpired inside; other than that all of us are very grateful for the honors we received today," said Wildstar. "The President didn't brief us on anything else, I'm afraid. Thank you." 

The questions continued nonetheless as security forces held the press back while Wildstar and his comrades got into two large staff cars for the drive back to Headquarters. 

Wildstar, Nova, and Dash got into the same staff car, while Eager, Dr. Sane, and Buzz got into the car behind it. Wildstar wasn't sure why, but he noticed that Venture's father and Sandor's cousin got into a third car behind that. 

When they arrived at Headquarters, all of the service personnel present were asked to assemble in a briefing room. 

Then, the Commander entered, and said, "Again, I must tell you that all of you have the thanks...of the entire world." 

"As some of you have been informed," said Singleton, looking at Wildstar and Nova, "...in three days, you will meet here again to receive your new duty assignments after your current leaves come to an end. What I can tell you is that these assignments will be of a TDY nature, and they'll last for about a month, as I've told some of you already, once again." 

"Sir, if I can ask..." said Eager. "Why will we be goin' TDY?" 

"Because, we anticipate upcoming reassignment of a more permanent nature for you soon," said Singleton. "The _Argo _is now in a repair dock, and she will soon enter refit to repair the damage she endured in her last battles. Early in the new year, we anticipate that the Star Force will be reunited for a patrol cruise." 

Then, Buzz asked, "I take it the Black Tigers will be reformed, sir?" 

"Yes, they will, although, as you know, they suffered a lot of casualties. We will be training new pilots to fill many of the slots vacated by losses in battle. Wildstar, that's where you'll come in, for now." 

"Sir?" 

"We may be filling some of the slots in the rotation order of the Black Tigers and many other Air Groups with Super Starfighters until enough Cosmo Tiger II's are again made available to fill up all of the available slots in the Black Tigers. Since you are known to be an expert Super Starfighter pilot, we've decided that you would make an ideal training officer for these new pilots. I anticipate that the fulfillment of that mission will be your TDY assignment, Wildstar." 

"Yessir." 

"As for the rest of you, you'll be notified of your TDY assignments in three days. In the meantime, there are other things that must be tended to. All of you have been invited to a reception on the evening of Thursday, the 19th, at the Presidential Palace. It is our request that all of you attend." 

Everyone replied in the affirmative. 

"Finally, for the senior officers present," he said, motioning to Wildstar, Nova, and Dr. Sane, "You have been asked by the Earth Government to attend another special meeting. Please follow me. The rest of you, for the moment, are dismissed. Enjoy your leaves." 

After some hearty farewells, Wildstar, Nova, and Dr. Sane followed Singleton, wondering again what was up. 

* * *

A few minutes later, Wildstar and Nova found themselves in a room with Mark Venture's father David and a young woman they didn't recognize. Before them were two long tables covered with papers and what seemed to be a number of government officials in dark suits, along with two EDF staff officers. 

"Would you sit down, please?" said one of the officials. Glancing at everything, Derek and Nova wondered what was going on. It seemed evident that David Venture wasn't sure what was up, either; and none of them knew the young brown-haired woman who sat next to David. 

"Mister Matsuhira," said Singleton. "Would you stand to explain the nature of these proceedings?" 

"Yessir," said Matsuhira, whom, they noticed, was in the brown variant of the EDF Headquarters uniform, meaning that he served in Logistics. "I am not certain if any of you are aware of the precedent, but it is something of a tradition to grant important military heroes a bounty for their services after a major victory. Certainly, the two of you who are present are major heroes, and the two of you here who represent others stand, for today, legally in their shoes for the purposes of this transaction." 

Matsuhira cleared his throat and continued. "Before we proceed any further, permit me to introduce the interested parties to each other. As most of you know," he said, gesturing to Wildstar and Nova, "These two are Deputy Captain Derek Wildstar, commander of the Star Force and the space battleship _Argo,_ and Lieutenant Nova Forrester, the Living Group Leader of the Star Force and the space battleship _Argo,_ which, I am also pleased to say, has just entered into a repair bay for a major overhaul and refit. Fortunately, they can represent themselves here today for the purpose of this transaction. Over here, we have David Venture, who is present to represent Lieutenant Commander Mark Venture, the Navigation Group Leader of the _Argo _and of the Star Force, and, finally, we have Janice Sandor, the cousin of Lieutenant Commander Stephen Sandor, the Mechanical Group Leader of the _Argo_ and of the Star Force. Unfortunately, neither Mister Venture nor Mister Sandor can personally be present today, so both Mister Venture's father and Mister Sandor's cousin are present to act legally in their stead." 

Derek and Nova glanced again at each other, wondering what form the bounty would take. However, a moment later, a picture began to form in Nova's mind as another one of the parties stood up. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Harrison Kueller. I'm from the General Counsel's Office of the Parliament. It is my duty and my pleasure to inform you that Parliament has just voted each of you a bounty in the amount of one hundred and thirty thousand credits each." 

At that, everyone sat in shock. It was a large figure; Wildstar was aware that the figure was somewhere around eight times his annual salary, and Nova was aware that the figure was somewhere around ten to eleven times her annual salary. David Venture and Jan Sandor were equally stunned. 

"Now that you've had time to catch your breaths...bear in mind that these figures, after a great deal of debate in Parliament, have been granted across the board to all fifty-two surviving members of the _Argo's _crew who departed Earth in the mutiny and then survived the engagements with Zordar's forces," said Kueller. 

"What was the debate for?" asked Wildstar quietly. 

"There was debate over...whether or not everyone should receive the same amount or not, sir," stammered Kueller. 

"That wasn't fair! " snapped Wildstar. "Everyone on the _Argo_ made great sacrifices to be there. Everyone took the same risks; officer or enlisted man. Due to this, I don't think anyone should receive anything less because of their_ rank_. Privates can die just as bravely as Captains, sir!" 

"I know...but, after they debated the issue, they decided it precisely in the manner you've just suggested, Captain," said the chubby lawyer, stammering a bit. "They decided that everyone, regardless of rank, would receive the same amount, to be received as a land grant or in cash to purchase a suitable home or other property. All men and women from your crew shared alike." 

"Of course," said Derek, taking a breath as Nova looked on in concern. "Shall we go on?" he said a moment later. 

"Of course," said Kueller. "Now, I'd like each of you to consider these books, first of all," he said, handing a leatherette binder to David Venture, a similar binder to Jan Sandor, and, finally, a large binder to Wildstar. "I hope you won't object to the liberty, but be advised, Captain, that your fiancée's award has been combined with yours. That's why you're sharing a binder. I'd also request...that none of you open these, yet." 

Kueller cleared his throat and continued as his younger colleagues looked on. "It was suggested, in the resolutions, that these bounties be paid to each of you, and those you represent, in the form of private homes and the sites they will stand on. These real estate offerings are in prime, desirable sites at the edge of the Federal Megalopolis, in scenic locations, each with their own unique beauty, and each, also, somewhat isolated and somewhat guarded from the prying eyes and ears of both the paparazzi and the curious. None of you will exactly have many neighbors, but they will be individuals who will have a decided interest in their privacy, just as all of you have an interest in your own privacy and the privacy of your loved ones." 

"Are there any questions so far?" 

Nova shyly raised a hand. "Sir, if I understood you correctly, does this mean that Derek and I will be sharing a home and property worth...two hundred and sixty thousand credits?" 

"That's correct...unless the two of you part ways...or elect to take your bounty as cash...or elect to split your bounty between cash and a smaller property. Bear in mind, though...none of you will exactly have a small property. The proposed homes are at least three bedrooms each in size...all planned so that...when you choose to have families....if you choose to have them...you can live in comfort." 

Jan bowed her head and thought, _Steve...I don't know if that'll ever apply to you or not...but, still...the thought IS nice._

"Very well...you may now open your presentation books...they contain architects' drawings of what the homes and sites will look like when they're completed, as well as floorplans, and topographical and location maps of the sites. We will endeavor to keep the locations of the sites as secret and secure as possible." 

Wildstar and Nova opened their book and found themselves looking, stunned, at an architect's rendering of a large two-story modern home covered with what appeared to be beige brick (although they knew it had to be a synthetic compound.) The plans for the house indicated that it was a three-bedroom home. They read the following description of the house, which was surrounded by trees: 

__

Abundant Livability: Surrounded by Woods... Open living is the key to the abundant livability of this design. Straight back from the two-story foyer, the gigantic gathering room/dining room area shares a through-fireplace with a unique sunken conversation area. An L-shaped kitchen has a pass-through snack bar to the breakfast room which has access to a quiet side terrace. The first-floor master suite offers pampering with its deluxe master bath. His and Hers walk-in closets, a double-bowl lavatory and a whirlpool tub all combine to create a relaxing atmosphere. On the second floor, two family bedrooms are separated by a lounge with a balcony overlook and share a full hall bath.

That described the house. As they gazed at the floorplans, Nova was smiling at the vaulted living room with its fireplace and the plans for the whirlpool bath in the bedroom suite. She also admired the outdoor pool and hot tub/_onsen_ surrounded by trees (she liked water), and Derek smiled at the plans and drawings of the finished basement_. I could put a nice workshop in there,_ he thought. 

David Venture was similarly impressed with the house that was being built for his son, even though he prayed silently that Mark would recover to a degree as to enjoy the brick and siding-covered house, also with three bedrooms. Jan looked at the plans for Steve's house and said, "I see there's a lot of workshop space for him. He's always liked to keep occupied. What a shame...", she sighed. 

"What?" asked David. 

"It's a shame that his sister isn't here to see this now," said Jan with a shake of her head. 

"What happened?" asked David. 

"It was part of a terrible accident Steve and...his sister...had when they were children. It took her life....and it's always had a terrible effect on him." 

"I know...," said Wildstar solemnly. Nova extended a hand, and then Jan stood up to give Nova a hug as tears came to the brown-haired woman's eyes. "I'm sorry..," Jan stammered after a moment. "His sister and I were very close as children. Please forgive me." 

"It's okay," said Nova softly. 

"With all respect," said Kueller quietly, "..we have to get back to the business at hand. There are papers that will need to be signed to indicate your acceptance of these offers, and to authorize us to begin construction." 

"When do you expect to have the houses finished?" asked Wildstar. 

"It'll take a little while, since we have to make certain the interiors are finished and the necessary basic furnishings are moved in...so, we can expect to have the houses ready for occupancy by a few days before Christmas. Is that acceptable?" 

Everyone agreed to the planned completion dates. "God, what a Christmas gift it'll make for Mark," said David with some excitement as he picked up a pen. 

After asking a few more questions, such as details about utilities, which would be paid for at the normal rates by the occupants, and in regard to taxes (which were remitted in perpetuity for the lifetime of the owners), Wildstar and Nova picked up their pens and began to sign the transfer documents in the presence of some of the paralegals and lawyers at the table, who notarized the documents as they signed them. _Funny,_ thought Nova_. Looks like we just acquired a house and I haven't bought a wedding dress yet!_

After paging through her contract and a copy of the power of attorney she had previously signed with Sandor, Jan began to sign on his behalf. 

About forty-five minutes later, the documents were completed, and each new homeowner was handed a title deed in an envelope as each deed (generated online with the County Clerk's Office) came off the printer on a nearby table. They were then handed the key-cards to what would be their new homes, and sent on their way with a more than fair amount of surprise. 

__

What a day this is turning out to be, thought Wildstar as he and Nova left together, with a smiling Nova occasionally pointing out new features on their property that she had just noticed, such as a swimming pool, large semi-wooded yard, and, last of all, a beachfront of their own on one of the bays of the Pacific. 

"What a place..," said Derek as they stood in the elevator. 

"Derek...on a nice day...can we go up there and take a look? Based on the pictures...the site looks beautiful." 

"Sure...if you don't mind seeing construction crews and robots ripping up the ground for our new house." 

"I don't mind at all," smiled Nova. "I think I'd even like you to take some pictures of our house as it goes up, Derek." 

__

She's in love, thought Derek to himself with a bemused grin as she smiled at him. _Luckily...it's not only with the house_. 

And, at that, Derek Wildstar smiled back. 

* * *

Three days later, on the twentieth, Derek Wildstar stood at attention in General Singleton's office as he was handed a set of orders. The Commander said, "This is your new assignment, Wildstar." 

Derek opened the envelope to discover that he had been posted to a Super Starfighter training squadron at Idlewild Field Fighter Base as its instructor. "I'm to report next week, sir?" he asked. 

"Yes, that is, after you complete the ground combat refresher training course that you've been ordered to attend during the weekend. Do you have any further questions?" 

"No, sir. I'm honored to have the duty of training our newest fighter pilots on the Super Starfighter. It's my favorite type of astrofighter, sir." 

"Always the traditionalist, I see," chuckled Singleton. "I'm glad to hear you're pleased with your new assignment, Commander." 

"Thank you, sir." 

Singleton and Wildstar exchanged salutes and left. On his way out, Wildstar, in his blues and blue peacoat, ran into Nova, who was coming down the passage in her white Administration uniform with its red ascot and short skirt. 

"Funny meeting you here, Miss Forrester," joked Wildstar. 

"Derek, will you STOP it?" whispered Nova with a soft giggle. "You know all too well where I'm going and why. Forty to one I'll be assigned back here again. I'll see you later in the commissary, okay?" 

"Okay. Great. What should I get you?" 

"I can handle it myself; I have more than enough. All right?" 

"See you later." 

"Bye, now, " said Nova as she entered the outer office of General Singleton. 

* * *

Wildstar found himself in the commissary a few minutes later. There, he was surprised to see old Patrick Orion sitting at a table with his second-in-command from the _Argo's_ Engine Group, Joe Yamazaki. 

"How are you doing?" asked Wildstar as he sat down with his lunch. 

"I've been better," said Orion. "That shock I took on the _Argo _during Zordar's last attack gave my old ticker a little bit of a time, but I pulled through all right. I hear that you and Nova are about to get married." 

"You heard correctly," said Wildstar. 

"Congratulations, sir," said Yamazaki. 

"How's Venture?" asked Orion. 

Wildstar sighed. "He's still in the hospital. Everyone's still worried about him." 

"He'll be all right...you know that," said Orion in a soft voice. "Where's Nova?" 

"Up in the Commander's office, receiving her new assignment," said Wildstar. "It's going to be a TDY one, just like mine. Have you been able to get to the _Argo_ yet?" 

"As a matter of fact, we were there this morning," said Yamazaki. 

"How is she?" asked Wildstar. 

"She's going to need a LOT of work," said Orion as Yamazaki shook his head. "Especially on the engine section. It was pretty badly damaged." 

"So what are you planning to do?" 

"We're considering something, Wildstar," said Orion. "It's going to be a change we thought the ship's needed for a while, but we have to see if it'll be practical or not. We think it'll work fine, though." 

"You mind telling me what it is?" chuckled Wildstar nervously. 

"I'd....rather not," said Orion. "Not until Sandor gets out of the hospital and we have a good idea whether or not all of this is going to work. All right?" 

"Yeah...sure," sighed Wildstar. 

"But...there's NO need to worry," said Orion. "If this works, it'll make the _Argo_ better, without, I stress, makin' her into a machine like those new _Andromedas_...okay?" 

"All right," sighed Wildstar. "In other words...I'll just have to wait and take your word for it...right?" 

"That's the best I can tell ye right now," said Orion. "But, it'll be great," he chuckled in his Irish brogue. "And, what's more..." 

"ORION!" cried a young female voice behind the old engineer. "When did you get out of the hospital?" 

"Last night," he said happily as he turned around to greet Nova. "How're you doing?" 

"Great, Orion," said Nova with a smile as the old man stood and the two of them exchanged a friendly hug. Afterwards, Orion stepped back, albeit a little unsteadily. 

"Pat...are you all right?" cried Nova. 

"I'm fine," he said. "Just a little tired, that's all. Ye can't help it when you get a bit old, that's all. I don't quite have the strength of you young ones anymore...but someone like me's GOT to come along on your next cruise on the _Argo_....you'll need the experience. Although, after our last mission, I daresay that our young Deputy Captain here did a cracker-jack job keeping all of ye in line." 

"Thanks," said Wildstar. 

"Uhmm, sir," said Yamazaki as Nova sat down with her light lunch. "Shouldn't we be going, now?" 

"Oh, of course," said Orion. "See you later...both of ye...okay?" he said as he looked at Wildstar and Nova. 

"Later, Orion," said Wildstar with a smile. 

"Take care now," added Nova as they left. 

"Well, Derek, I've got some news for you," said Nova in a happy voice. 

"Yeah?" said Wildstar. 

"They told me what my new assignment's going to be." 

"Where is it going to be?" 

"Around the Megalopolis," said Nova. "Even though we won't be in the same precise squadron, we'll both be at..." 

"Wait a minute," said Wildstar. "Squadron?" 

"Yes, squadron," said Nova. "I'm a qualified pilot, the same as you, even though I've only flown recon planes," said Nova brightly. "I'll still be doing that, but in a different plane." 

"What kind?" asked Wildstar. 

"A Cosmo Tiger II...the new Astrofighter." 

Wildstar sat in silence for a moment, until he said, "Well...that stands to reason. They're standardizing a lot of the squadrons now. What will they be training you for?" 

"Recon and survey flights, of course," said Nova. "Of course, you know, since they're putting me in a Tiger, they'll have to train me in aerial combat and attack. You remember when Sandor flew that recon for us at Phoebes before Saturn-Titan? That was in a Tiger, as was Conroy's recon of the tunnel satellite before Desslok attacked us." 

"So, I take it that they're replacing the Type 100-B's with Tigers?" 

"Uh-huh, Derek," said Nova. "And they'll be training me how to fly one, and how to defend myself in one if I have to. And, they'll be doing it at Idlewild. What do you think?" 

"That's great...but you'd better be careful." 

"Why?" 

"Well...you know that the Tiger's a hotter bird than the old Type 100's," said Wildstar. "And, you know that aerial combat is pretty dangerous...even in practice." 

"Does that stop you?" asked Nova. 

"No...it doesn't," said Wildstar. 

"Then, why should it stop me?" asked Nova. "You know that we all take the same risks. I took a risk every day I was on the Argo during our mission to Telezart." 

"But, well...there's different kinds of risks," said Wildstar. 

"Derek, what would you think is safer? Going up against an enemy during a recon in a fast, but unarmed, Type 100, or going up against an enemy in a Cosmo Tiger, when you can fight _back _if they attack you?" 

"Well...if you have guns, won't you want to take risks that you normally wouldn't?" 

"That's not the way we'll be trained," said Nova, "and you know that. Besides, what situation would make you worry less about me? Going out on a recon in an unarmed plane...or going out on a recon in something I could use to fire a few shots while I'm running?" 

"You have a point," said Wildstar after a long silence. "But, either way, I'd worry about you, all right?" 

"Don't I think I don't worry about YOU every time you fly?" asked Nova as she grabbed Derek's hands. "We both have careers, and to advance my career, and keep my rating on the _Argo_, I'll have to keep up with all of the latest trends and changes. If they tell me I'll have to fly a Tiger, believe me, I'm going to learn how to fly a Tiger. Okay?" 

"Okay," said Wildstar. "But, be careful?" 

"Derek, don't you think I will be? Especially since they said I'm going to have a really good training officer?" 

"Who?" 

"A member of the Black Tigers," said Nova. "But they didn't tell me who, yet, of course." 

"The usual. I don't think they told any of MY students I'll be training them. When do you start?" 

"Next week," said Nova. "That is...after a weekend training exercise they're sending me on." 

"What kind?" 

"Ground combat," said Nova. "It's a refresher course." 

"Funny...they told me I'm going off on such a course this weekend, too," said Derek. 

At that, both of them chuckled. "I wonder if I'll see you there?" said Nova. 

"I don't know...don't count on it." 

"But...if you do...hmmm...it'll be interesting...especially because we'll have jobs to do." 

"What do you mean by that?" asked Wildstar. 

"Well...we'll see," said Nova in a soft little voice. "We'll see." 

* * *

****

END OF ACT TWO. 


	3. Tomorrow Never Knows Act Three

**Tomorrow Never Knows**

**ACT THREE—THE FANGS OF THE TIGER**

**I. WARGAMES**

**Earth**

**Quantico**** Space Marine Base**

**November 21, 2201.**

**1210 Hours-Eastern Standard Time**

* * *

On a nice, cool autumn day, Derek Wildstar, clad in a set of green coveralls over his EDF blues, was walking around in a clearing in a large wooded area of the EDF Space Marine Base at Quantico on the North American continent in the State of Virginia. Like many others he knew, he had been sent here as part of a few days' worth of refresher field training, which took the form of an elaborate set of wargames that had been going on since the evening of the 18th.

The field training was an extension and continuation of the basic survival training given to all EDF personnel who might face ground combat. This training involved fighting in space in zero-G and on an airless satellite, and in several different Terrestial environments, namely, an arctic, desert, urban warfare, and forested environment.

A few days' worth of maneuvers had been done in Arizona in the desert environment, and they had also fought in zero-G at an orbiting space station and had done some maneuvers on Moonbase. They had just completed a round of urban warfare here at Quantico in a simulated city course, and now they were doing a period of training in a forested environment; this training phase had been added again since a great deal of forest had been discovered recently by a patrol ship on a planet orbiting Barnard's Star in the cleanup phase of searching Earth's environs for any Cometine stragglers.

The wargames involved many different companies, all involved company against company in different areas of the sprawling base. The mission of each company was to take the headquarters of the other while defending their own headquarters against attack. The members of each company, from the company command all the way down to the lowliest private, would be graded on their role in the exercise and given pointed advice and criticism afterwards on how each man and woman, and how each squad, unit, and company, could perform better in their objective.

Supplies, especially for those in the field, apart from the headquarters, were to be minimal, so the exercise was a test of survival skills and land navigation as well as a test of how well each EDF member could perform in hand-to-hand infantry combat.

At the moment, Wildstar was on patrol, having decided to scout ahead of his company a few hundred meters. Wildstar took a moment to set down his AK-01, loaded with low intensity, high-visibility practice rounds (carried in conjunction with his Alex's Astro-Automatic, found on Titan, which he considered something like a good-luck charm) and he caught a deep breath. _I've forgotten how huge this base is,_ he thought as he took his canteen off his belt in order to take a drink. _I'd also forgotten how huge this exercise is with a couple of different companies holding different small-unit wargames on different parts of the base..., _he added to himself. _I knew that Hardy, who's just gotten out of the hospital, would be on this exercise, and, the other day, Nova told me she was going to be on this exercise, but I haven't seen either of them yet. I guess they were assigned to different units, or different parts of this unit. They call this a "Company", but it seems a lot bigger than that. _

_For all I know, _he thought. _They could be on the other side...on Charlie Company...in which case they''d be the enemy, in which case, I'd have to deal with them if I met them. Well, war is war. What was that Desslok said, according to Nova? "Love is the first casualty of a war."_

_And..., _thought Wildstar_, I'd..._

At that, Wildstar's train of thought was derailed by a snapping twig. Moving as quickly as possible, he put his canteen on his belt, picked up his rifle, and turned quietly in the direction of the sound.

Wildstar waited for a moment, and tensed as a few more twigs snapped.

Finally, he saw a shape. "HALT," he demanded in a firm voice. "Identify yourself!"

The interloper ducked behind a tree, and Wildstar, guessing he was hostile, aimed his rifle in his direction. A few more snaps came, and Wildstar continued to keep tensed...

..until, a moment later, he felt a strong arm go around his midsection.

Wildstar, familiar with the martial arts, went straight into action as he stomped on the intruder's foot, and then viciously kicked the intruder in the shins, causing him to loosen his grip. Using his opportunity, Wildstar broke free, and turned to face his opponent.

His opponent, clad in Space Marine greens, snarled at him and threw him back to knock him off-balance, his helmet coming off as he struggled. The imposing bald African-American then swung a vicious right hook directly at Wildstar's head.

Wildstar ducked, and responded with a punch to the intruder's gut.

As the intruder dealt with the punch, Wildstar responded by punching him, very hard, in the head.

The punch connected, causing the Marine to wobble on his feet for a moment.

As Wildstar prepared to swing again, the Marine responded by throwing himself right on top of Wildstar. Wildstar, off balance, fell to the ground, and held off the Marine as he snarled and attempted to shove Wildstar's face into the dirt.

The two men rolled, cursing and punching, as Wildstar looked away to see his dropped rifle lying on a pile of leaves.

Taking a deep breath, Wildstar pulled himself out from under the Marine, kicking once at his opponent as he leaped for his rifle.

The Marine leaped for him, trying to disarm him, but Wildstar kept his grip on his rifle and hissed, "Hands UP! You know the rules, Mister! If I have to shoot you, even at practice intensity, it's gonna hurt!"

The Marine snarled, looking for his own dropped weapon, but Wildstar noticed where it was, and kicked it into another pile of leaves. "You gonna surrender," hissed Wildstar.

The Marine looked around, looking for a rescue, but, seeing no one around from his unit, he said, "Yeah. I'll surrender," in a deep, angry voice.

"Turn around," snapped Wildstar as he searched his enemy for hidden weapons. He found a combat knife, which he promptly took.

Wildstar then took some rope from his opponent and bound his wrists behind his back while holding his rifle on his enemy. After he was secure, Wildstar snapped, "Who are you?"

"Ensign Paul Hemsford," said his enemy.

"Which unit were you with?"

"Third Marines, Charlie Company."

"What were you doing here?"

"Scouting our perimeter. We were holdin' this area in conjunction with Charlie Company regulars."

"Where's your headquarters?"

"I ain't telling you THAT much, sir," snapped Hemsford. "You wanna find that out, you're going to have to perform some more scouting."

"I mean to do that."

"With a prisoner," snapped Hemsford.

"Hell no...I'm turning you over, first. Now," continued Wildstar, "I..." At that, he spotted something lying on a pile of dirt. "What's this?", he demanded.

"I've no idea," said Hemsford.

"Really," demanded Wildstar.

"Really."

"Well, I'm going to take a look at this," said Wildstar. "Hmm...it looks like a manila envelope. I wonder what this is," he said out loud.

Wildstar grabbed at the envelope, bending down to pick it up.

A moment later, he found himself hanging by his ankle in a noose dangling from a tree branch.

"What the...HECK," yelled Wildstar as he dangled three meters above the ground.

Then, from another tree, someone jumped down and stuck an AK-01 in his back, hissing in a muffled but familiar voice, "You're my prisoner, Mister. No funny moves when I cut you down, GOT it?"

"Right," muttered Wildstar. He looked at his enemy's boots, and guessed their owner was a woman because they looked rather narrow.

While thinking nasty thoughts about being captured by a girl (and being outsmarted by one), he was cut down and turned over with a light kick. Then, he pushed back his hair and his tormentor opened her blue faceplate, all in time to reveal his RATHER surprised fiancée standing there in green woodland camo fatigues! Nova's open-mouthed intake of breath and wide eyes turned to a smile when she said, "Well, I think my CO's going to like THIS when I bring you into Charlie Company's camp as a prisoner!"

"You know I have a duty to escape…!"

"And I'd move all these woods to hunt you right DOWN again, wouldn't I, Hemsford?."

"Far as I know, you sure would, ma'am," laughed Hemsford. "Are you gonna get me out of these cuffs?"

"In a moment. First I've got to cuff MY prisoner," snapped Nova as she bound Wildstar's wrists in the same manner that he had bound Hemsford's wrists. After whispering, "Sorry, Derek…I'll take care of it for you," she also took Derek's Astro-Automatic, looking at it for a moment and confirming that it was the same weapon that had once saved them both on Titan in 2199. She also remembered that, on Iscandar, Derek had offered to return the weapon to his brother, but the elder Wildstar had refused it.

"You're going to be interrogated, you know," said Forrester as she forced him up (seeming to enjoy this). "Hemsford, it'll be your job to guard our prisoner," said Nova as she freed her Marine comrade's wrists.

"Aye, AYE ma'am," he said.

Wildstar snarled at Hemsford. Given the tussle they had earlier, Wildstar guessed that Hemsford wouldn't be particularly nice to him. He then stared at Nova, giving her a less-than friendly look.

Nova whispered, "I'll apologize later. Right now, this is WAR, Derek. Got it?"

"Okay," said Wildstar.

"Hey, Wildstar," snapped Hemsford.

"Yeah?"

"Are you two, you know, as _tight_ as I heard you were?" asked Hemsford with a leer and wink.

Nova briskly replied, "This is irrelevant to this exercise, Mister."

"You two looked pretty chummy back there. How close have you gotten?" he chuckled.

"You haven't heard?" asked Wildstar.

"No. I've been in training since before Saturn-Titan. Just got back planetside a few days ago. I didn't like my surrender orders...I had ideas about those."

"So did we, Hemsford," said Wildstar with a grim smile.

"And if you must know the truth about Derek and I, we're engaged and getting married in about four weeks, Mister," said Nova snappily.

"Oh…THAT's it," laughed Hemsford. "Wildstar, you're gonna LIKE what happens to you when we get back to camp!"

"Why?"

"She's one of the heads of the Special Ops Platoon. One of her jobs is the interrogation of prisoners. Maybe if she's REAL nice, she'll do it herself. C'mon, sir," said Hemsford with a smile. "We've gotta get moving!"

Needless to say, Wildstar did NOT like the sound of that.

* * *

A while later, Wildstar, walking with his hands up, found himself escorted to a temporary pre-fab shelter unit by Forrester and Hemsford.

He was walked inside, escorted briskly through two rooms that seemed to be offices, and then marched into a compartment that contained a straight-backed chair, a bunk, a desktop light, and a small table.

"This is where I _have_ to leave you," said Hemsford in his deep voice with a peculiar emphasis. "You'd better behave, got it?"

Wildstar replied only with a curt nod. He glanced over at Nova, and then he glanced behind her, noticing that they weren't by any means alone.

"So, you brought a prisoner?" chuckled a young dark-haired woman as she stood up and faced Nova. The young woman, Wildstar noticed, was Nova's friend, Natalie Fisher.

"I did," said Nova.

"Hold it," said Wildstar. "Aren't you a nurse?"

"You're not permitted to speak until you're spoken to, prisoner," snapped Fisher. "But, if you must know, I've been assigned as an assistant Intelligence officer for the duration of this wargame. My job is to see to the preliminary interrogation of prisoners. Miss Forrester was assigned as a perimeter scout, and I must say, she's done a great job in brining us a prisoner of your caliber, Captain Wildstar. Now, enough of these pleasantries. If you wouldn't mind, what was your mission?"

"You know I can't tell you that," said Wildstar respectfully. "I'm bound not to reveal anything to your benefit. My name is Lieutenant Commander Derek Wildstar. My service number is..."

"That's NOT what we're interested in!" snapped Natalie. "What we're interested in, sir, is your mission. What were you up to in our perimeter?"

"I can't tell either of you that," said Wildstar simply. He sat back and caught a whiff of food outside. "I'm hungry. Could one of you get me something?"

Nova shook her head. "We can't leave you unguarded, Derek. You know that."

"But..."

"If you were wondering, I asked an enlisted man to prepare you something on our way in when you were talking with Hemsford," said Nova. "It'll take them a little while, since the enlisted scouts have to be fed first, but, if you'll cooperate, we'll see about getting you out there ASAP to eat with us. Okay?"

Derek looked, and noticed that Nova was smiling kindly at him. On the other hand, behind her desk, Natalie looked very irritated. Then, he figured it out. _It's an act! The old "good cop- bad cop routine!" Nova's the nice one ready to give me everything if I'll talk, while Miss Fisher's the one who's waiting and ready to rip out my fingernails if I don't talk! AHA! They must've had this set up...for whomever stumbled into their clutches! Okayy...let's see how you like this..._ he thought with a grin.

"You know, I wish I could cooperate, but I can't," said Wildstar.

"Why not?" snapped Natalie.

"Because...it's so simple," said Wildstar. "Nova, you remember how we sometimes saw classified information handled while we were with the Star Force, right?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled.

"Often, lower-ranking personnel weren't told everything about a mission that we sent them on, particularly when they didn't have a strict need to know. That's how we handled things with some of the Space Marines, if you remember. If you remember how we handled the Gamilon pilot, you know, the one who had his memory taken away, you'd..."

Derek stopped. Nova was whispering fiercely to Natalie, and Natalie nodded.

"WE don't buy that line of reasoning!" snapped Natalie.

"Well, what do you mean? They didn't tell me everything..."

"Nova informed me that her trap was baited with fake plans. Anyone reaching for plans would have to, by necessity, be on a spy mission, wouldn't they?"

"I wasn't engaged in espionage against your unit, except for the sort one might expect from a commander scouting ahead of his company."

"All right," said Nova. "What was the company?"

"I can't really tell you that, can I?" said Derek in a charming voice.

"Come on," said Nova. "Don't make it any harder on yourself than it has to be," she said imploringly. "What was the company, and what were you up to around our lines?"

"Can't tell you...I'm sorry," he said softly. "I can't compromise my unit."

"Okay, then," said Natalie. "If you won't talk...we're going to have to _make_ you talk."

"And how do you plan to do that?" demanded Wildstar.

"Hey, Nova, want some soda?" asked Natalie.

"Sure."

"I'll go and get you one, and I'll get one for myself. But NOT for our prisoner. He won't get anything until he talks."

"Is that humane?" asked Nova. "Natalie, that sounds very cruel."

"It's war," said Natalie with a wicked grin. "If he's thirsty, when he talks, he drinks. If not...well...he'll just have to be thirsty, that's all."

After about two hours' worth of questioning, as Natalie and Nova had their sodas, Wildstar grew ever more thirsty. Seeing the two of them also enjoying candy bars (which they also denied him) didn't help very much, either.

Especially...not when Nova asked Natalie, "When's dinner coming?"

"Later," said Natalie.

"Why," asked Nova.

"Well, we have our prisoner. We can't feed him until he either talks, or until it's necessary to feed him."

"Natalie," said Nova. "I think this is going a little far. He has to eat sometime."

"But when?" asked Natalie. "Let him determine that," she said as she began to eat another candy bar. "Want one?"

"No, thanks," said Nova. "If I eat too many of those, I'll never be able to fit into a decent wedding dress. "

"When's the blessed event taking place?"

"Derek and I have plans to get married on the 26th of December, which isn't that far away. "

"About a month. Not bad," said Natalie. "Hey," she whispered.

"Yes?"

"Are you going to let him eat and relax our guard then?"

"Of course I am," said Nova huffily.

"Can I eat now?" demanded Wildstar.

"Only when you talk," blurted Natalie.

"Wait," said Wildstar. "I'm ready."

"Ready to do what?" demanded Natalie before Nova could put in her two credits' worth.

"I'm ready to talk," grinned Wildstar, as he thought,_ I am ready to talk. But, all they'll get is misinformation. Misinformation that'll lead their side right into a trap I'll set up when they let me go...Sorry, Nova, he thought. But love is love...and war is war. Right now, you have the bad luck of being on the enemy side...and I'm sworn to beat you. _

And, at that, Derek began to tell a wonderfully detailed story about his mission, his objectives, and the plans of his side. Natalie eagerly took down every detail of his confession, with Nova's help as she questioned him, seeming to turn rather thoughtful after a certain point.

Finally, when Derek was done talking, Natalie eagerly closed her notebook and said, "Okay, now, prisoner. We'll get you your dinner, and anything else you want. Thanks so much for being cooperative."

"You're welcome," said Wildstar with a smile.

"Nova, can you see to it that he's fed while I give this report to our superiors?"

"Sure," said Nova hesitantly. "Go right ahead. I'll get his chow in a minute."

Natalie left, leaving Derek and Nova alone. Finally, Nova looked him straight in the eye and asked, "Derek, did you tell us the truth?"

Wildstar only smiled. "I told you all that I know," he said in a soft voice. "I was patrolling that ridge, because it _does _lead to the best attack route to our headquarters, namely, through the gully past Hill 347. If you lead a patrol through that gully, you can slip around most of our perimeter and attack us, fair and square, with only a few guards in that area."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Nova.

"Why do you ask?"

"I know what you're like, Derek. You don't give up that easily. You're going to have something waiting for us there, aren't you?"

"Just the normal perimeter patrol. That's it. If your side can overpower them, you can hit our headquarters very, very easily."

"Really?"

"Really, Nova," he said calmly. "Give it a try. C'mon."

"Okay. But this had better not be a trick."

"Nova, would I trick you?" he said with the earnestness of a little boy.

"With you, I'm not so sure..."

* * *

**II. NIGHT PATROL**

**Earth**

**Quantico**** Space Marine Base**

**November 22, 2201.**

**210 Hours-Eastern Standard Time**

* * *

It turned out that, after Natalie's report was accepted by the commander of their unit, a group was prepared to ambush the opposing side's headquarters, which, based upon information from other scouts, was concluded to be exactly in the location that Derek had reported. Natalie was chosen as one of the scouts to lead the unit to the headquarters and ambush it.. Natalie accepted the assignment with glee.

To her chagrin, Nova was selected to assist in the operation. The unit commander, a crusty Space Marine Major known as Horowitz, had listened patiently as Nova explained that she suspected the information obtained from Wildstar was probably tainted. Horowitz remembered that Nova had argued, "He has to have _something _up his sleeve, sir!"

"And, why do you suspect that?" said Horowitz.

"Well, sir, you know he's the Commander of the Star Force. Personal considerations aside, sir, I've served with him and under him for over fifteen months, and can tell you that Derek Wildstar is not a man who gives up easily. He's confounded both Gamilons and Cometines with some of the stratagems he's pulled off...and a lot of them involve surprise, stealth, and deception, sir."

Horowitz had laughed, and said, "Where's the surprise and stealth in a man who eats like a hog and then falls asleep for a few hours? I think he's resigned to his lot."

"Why?"

"He's not trying to escape, and he's been a model prisoner."

"Why would he talk so readily, sir?" Nova had asked.

"Those are the actions of a man who's a good loser. In the battles you've been through, Earth's fate has been at stake. This is just a wargame, Forrester. Can't a man throw a wargame every now and then," Horowitz had chuckled.

"You don't know Lieutenant Commander Derek Wildstar. I do. That's all I have to say, sir," Nova had said.

"Very good, Forrester," Horowitz had replied. "If you want to go off and follow your...romantic hunch...you can lead a six-man point recon squad all by yourself, okay? That's your job. Get out of here."

And, so ordered, Nova had been sent, given a Marine Tech Sergeant named Howard Brody as an executive officer, a regular EDF line Sergeant named Karachek as a second exec, and a squad consisting of two Lance Corporals and two Privates.

Nova's unit was the third "point" squad, following the units that Natalie Fisher and Hemsford had been assigned to. Natalie's unit and Hemsford's unit were advancing on the left and right flanks, and Nova's unit was taking the direct route down the gully that Derek had spoken of.

In the moonlight, Nova ordered a halt with a hand signal that Brody had to strain his eyes to catch, since Forrester had done an effective job in making herself and the others hard to spot at night with green camo face paint, camo helmet covers, and bits of brush attached to their helmets.

"Now, what's she doin?" muttered Brody.

"What's that, Sarge?" whispered Lance Corporal Saraven, who was right beside Brody.

"This officer dame's nuttier than a fruitcake, and very stubborn." muttered Brody. "Start, stop, smell the ground, listen to radio signals, creep forwards a few more meters, stop again. What's she think? There's a boobytrap on every corner?"

"There could be boobytraps, Sarge," said Saraven helpfully.

"Around a route that Wildstar says is the best way to his Headquarters," sneered Brody. "He got tortured or somethin', and he turned chicken and confessed. Why don't we go in a bit faster, and..."

Forrester came up on top of them again a moment later, moving very stealthily, and whispered, "Sergeant, CUT the chatter out."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. "What's up?"

"I just received a dispatch on the command frequency. We've got to be very careful."

"Why?"

"The base camp reported that Wildstar just escaped," whispered Nova in a dismayed tone that not even her whispers quite hid.

"Have they found him yet," asked Brody.

"No. And...about that..."

"Yeah?"

"I think he's set a trap for us...or is about to..."

"How could he do that?" sneered Brody softly as Karachek showed up with his two Lance Corporals.

"I don't think we were told _everything _about this terrain," whispered Nova.

"Why?"

"When I was off on point, I heard some running water up ahead, in a course parallel to ours. Wildstar said nothing about running water or a stream bed in the area, so I'd better check this out. Sergeant, you take your men and proceed a klick up towards the headquarters. I'll take Karachek and his men and check out that other gully."

"Got it," said Brody with a nod of his chubby face. "Where do we meet up?"

"Two klicks ahead. I'll navigate back to this gully after I check out the stream," whispered Nova as she set her compass.

"Right."

Unknown to everyone, Derek Wildstar was advancing stealthily up the hill just three kilometers away, up the real best route of attack against his headquarters, a stream that led to the hollow where his unit's headquarters complex had been set up. The gully that he had told Nova about was nothing but a dead end that led to another tributary of the stream; a tributary that took a course that could best be called torturous before it got to the main stream itself.

Wildstar had figured this stratagem out as he was tied to the cot and thought about the lay of the land that he knew about, but guessed Forrester and Fisher hadn't. He realized that the plot would've been given away at once if Nova had actually explored the area herself beforehand. However, he knew that Nova's lack of an immediate objection to his con game gave away her lack of knowledge of the area.

Now, his hope was that her unit could be silenced soon by running into the perimeter guards that guarded the region...guards he had also neglected to tell them about.

Picking up the portable radio that he had stolen from one of his poker-playing guards after having disabled and disarmed him with a good, unexpected kick in the middle of a poker game, Wildstar whispered, "Bravo two-zero? Over."

"Bravo-two," said a familiar voice from out of the handset. "Wildstah?"

"Hardy, still out there?" whispered Wildstar.

"Yeah. Got some radio traffic. Ah think ah found out where they are, Wildstah. Where WERE yuh?"

"I was their guest for a little while," whispered Wildstar.

"Captured? _Shoot_!"

"But I accomplished my objective and got away. Now I know where their base is...and I told them that the best way to our base is up the West gully," whispered Wildstar with a note of a chuckle in his voice.

"Up Roach Motel Ridge, Wildstah?"

"Yeah. They'll check in, but they won't check out," he chuckled. "Hardy, get some boys over there and at Heartbreak Rock to throw a party for their scouts and shut them up. I'll meet you back at Headquarters later. And wait until I tell you who interrogated me," chuckled Wildstar. "Over and out," he whispered as he advanced onwards along the stream, being sure to get himself hidden as soon as he heard a twig snap some distance away.

* * *

**II. NOVA AT HEARTBREAK ROCK**

**Earth**

**Quantico**** Space Marine Base**

**November 22, 2201.**

**248 Hours-Eastern Standard Time**

Nova now had Karachek convinced she was crazy as they climbed laboriously over one of the biggest boulders in the area that any of them had ever seen. The stream they had been following cut a path past this boulder, but the channel was so narrow that even Forrester found it impossible to get her slender form through it. Karachek and the two Marine Lance Corporals who followed him loudly wished that they had worn their rubber boots as they made this climb. Nova herself thought that the light rock-climbing shoes she had used once as a girl in the Rockies would have been a better choice, but she wasn't in a very talkative mood at the moment.

"Made it," muttered Karachek as he dragged one of his puffing Lance Corporals over the rock.

_"Shh,_" hissed Nova.

"What?" said Karachek in silence with a raised eyebrow as Nova listened.

"A twig," she said softly, motioning for her men to get down.

"I'll go ahead," she whispered.

"Ma'am, that's crazy. You're..."

"The quietest walker of this bunch," she countered. "Keep your ears peeled on the radio."

Karachek nodded as Nova closed her Marine-style helmet visor and tiptoed forward with her AK-01 Carbine (loaded, of course, with practice rounds) at the ready, looking hard for any signs of movement in the brush next to the stream.

"Got yuh in mah sights," whispered a figure a few hundred meters away as he spotted Nova in his night-vision sight. "Just a little closer, up towards Manley and Kayan's positions...there...good," whispered the figure. "Now, one Charlie in the BAG!" he whispered as he fired.

"Huh," cried Nova as a blue streak of light whizzed past her in the darkness. She ducked, and hit the dirt, squeezing off a round in the general direction of the enemy as she fell. She cursed herself a second later as a practice round from the right crackled loudly in a burst of laser pyrotechnics against her overall-clad upper thigh, causing it to twinge painfully with a sensation like an electric shock as two men rushed up out of nowhere to grab her.

Nova got off one kick with her good leg, but, a moment later, a third figure ran up and butted her carbine out of her hands with a practiced swipe.

As Nova faced down her attackers, she had just enough time to yell, "Karachek!" into her lip mike before she found herself surrounded by four men. The leader held a rifle menacingly in her face and barked, through his visor, "Get UP!" in a familiar voice.

"Huh?" Nova said as she put up her hands and limped up. The leg that had been shot still twanged and felt rather weak. "Hardy?" she said, recognizing her longhaired former shipmate from the _Argo_.

"Miss Nova?" he asked. "What'cha doin heah?"

"Training, like the rest of you," she snapped.

"Yew on our side?" he asked.

"Nope. I'm a scout from Charlie Company. "

"Yeah!" yelled a stout, short figure who turned out to be Manley. "We got one! Can we rough her up a bit, sir?" he said, taking a playful shove at Nova that made her stumble for a minute as she looked on in anger and surprise.

"Hell no!" said Hardy. "That wouldn't be ONE bit gallant, boy!" he snapped. "So you're the one Wildstah was talkin' to when he was a prisoner, huh?"

"How'd you know that?" asked Nova as she heard yells and shouts over her helmet headset as one of the men pulled it off her head. She guessed that Karachek, Brody and his men had fallen into the same trap.

"Easy," said another figure as he came up, and Nova recognized it as Buzz. "Wildstar radioed us with a radio set he stole. Now, based on his information, we'll launch a night attack on your headquarters, and then we can all joke about this in the morning," he said as Nova fumed, noticing that her helmet (and radio) were in the hands of Jeff Hardy. _No way to get them back and warn the base...DARN,_ she thought with a fair measure of disgust.

"That idiot!" squeaked Nova.

"Who, Wildstah?" asked Hardy.

"No, our Company Commander. I tried to tell him this would happen! I tried to tell him that Derek was pulling a trick...but did he listen? No...he didn't!"

"Ma'am," said one of the other men. "My name is Junior Lieutenant Sanjeeva Kayan. As one of your captors, it is my duty to inform you that you have been captured by enemy forces and neutralized. You will reveal your name, rank, service number, and any other information we deem as useful to our cause. You are to come with us at once."

"Right," sighed Nova as Buzz patted her down and took her canteen and other gear. As a mildly gallant gesture, he let her tuck her dark green-colored ascot (which had come undone during the struggle) back into the neckline of her coveralls "Well, let's go..." she sighed.

"Nova," said Hardy.

"Yes?" she sighed.

"Ah must say, you look ravishing in camo makeup! Gonna do yourself up like this on your honeymoon for Wildstah?"

"Hardy, shut UP!" barked Nova as the others laughed. _They're acting like a bunch of jerks...although at least Star Blazers are nowhere near as bad as Space Marines, at least, _thought Nova with a sour look on her face as her hands were found in front of her and bound.

"Shaving cream!" chuckled Buzz. "Hey, Hardy. Ya still got that shaving cream in the tent?"

"Yeah, ah do," he said.

"Maybe we can use it later!" he cawed as the others laughed.

_Now what,_ thought Nova again as she looked at her former comrades with her hands tied, _would these guys be talking about?_

* * *

**IV. THE SMELL OF VICTORY...**

**Earth**

**Quantico**** Space Marine Base**

**November 22, 2201.**

**1027 Hours-Eastern Standard Time**

The night attack on Charlie Company Headquarters, based on Wildstar's information of the whereabouts of the base, came off very well. With all of Charlie's scouts bagged at the Delta perimeter, there was more than enough time for the men and women of Delta Company to come up the stream bed and through the woods in force to attack the Charlie Company Headquarters and defeat the enemy after a vicious but quick night battle. The results were relayed through the Delta Headquarters when soldiers from Delta came back triumphantly with Charlie Company's captured Company colors and captured Company Commander, as Major Horowitz himself was marched, with his hands bound, in front of the Delta Headquarters tents as all of the Deltas cheered.

After the end of the part of the wargames in which Delta and Charlie Company had participated, everyone was trucked to another part of the base for breakfast before a formal briefing about the exercise.

Wildstar was sitting in the back of an open armored aircar as Nova walked by, still wiping some of the camo makeup off her face in the morning sunlight. She wasn't limping any more, since the effect of the practice-intensity hit had worn off after about an hour. For that, she was grateful, especially since she had heard that, in another company, Logistics had confused a practice-intensity cosmo-rifle battery pack with an actual combat-intensity pack, and some private had taken a shot that had taken off his hand!

"Nova!" he called. "You wanna come over here?"

"Oh? Do _you _want to interrogate me, too?" she teased as she climbed into the aircar.

"No, why should I? It's over with. We won."

"I know you won," grumbled Forrester, but with a little smile. "We would've won if the Major had listened to me," she said as the car began to drive off.

"Oh?" asked Derek.

"I suspected that there was something you were leaving out of your story," she said as she passed Derek a canteen of water while the dark green-painted aircar roared over the countryside.

"Hardy and Buzz told me that you had almost discovered the real path to our base when you were captured, and before you could report to your side."

"I was beginning to report when they captured me," countered Nova.

"Well, that was still a pretty good example of scouting, Nova," said Wildstar.

"Thanks," replied Nova with a smile. "But I still hate losing. I should've argued further with that Horowitz," she said, "but he dismissed everything I said."

"Why?"

Nova sighed. "The "Man's Navy" thing that all of you _men_ buy into. He just about made it clear to me by his attitude that he thought I was a little girl with a case of the screaming meemies who wasn't worth listening to. And, so, he lost," pouted Nova.

"Nova," said Derek. "It wasn't your fault..." he said quietly.

"It wasn't?"

"Nova, as one of his subordinates...you can't be blamed if he wouldn't listen to you. Truth be told...I had a hard time convincing our side of the location of your headquarters and launching the attack."

"What'd they think?" asked Nova.

"Well, do you remember what happened when the Comet Empire wouldn't let their pilot, Mazar, back into their ranks after we captured him and after he escaped...probably because they thought he was tainted by contact with us? Well, MY CO, Marine Major Corcoran...a guy who's held that rank for two years...longer than I've been a Lieutenant Commander, thought the same thing about me. I had a hell of a time convincing him to start that attack."

"So..."

"It could've gone either way, Nova...and things weren't easy for either of us. But we both learned something..."

"Yes," said Nova with a grin. "You learned how to be even sneakier than ever, and I learned never to trust someone who's too obliging."

"Will that have an effect on our personal life, madam?" he whispered.

"Not if you take me out after we get back to the Megalopolis tonight. Make it at nineteen-thirty hours, at that sushi place you were telling me about," smiled Nova.

"Consider it done," said Wildstar with a squeeze of his fiancé's hand.

At the briefing, which was just one of several being held that day, Delta Company and Charlie Company's members sat in a huge auditorium. There, a Marine Colonel serving as the referee for the company-level exercise they were involved in reviewed the results of the exercise on a large computer screen, discussing each aspect of the contact, skirmishes, reconnaissance, and raid. Nova tried not to groan too much as Wildstar's name was mentioned several times in a positive light, but she ended up blushing for a bit as she found out that her objections to Derek's "reliable" information had at least been recorded by Major Horowitz. They were noted with distinction by the referee, who said, "As a unit commander, this makes it absolutely clear that you ignore the intelligence of your subordinates with peril. Although perhaps not as important in the overall picture as Lieutenant Commander Wildstar's quickly devised stratagem and escape, we must recognize that at the very least, Lieutenant Forrester performed well in her task as an Intelligence Officer by using her knowledge of her enemy to temper reports. She acted far better than Miss Fisher, who accepted this intelligence entirely at face value..."

As the Colonel droned on about another part of the exercise, Nova accepted a squeeze from Derek's hand, and a shake of the head and a silent sigh from Natalie, who was sitting nearby. "Don't worry," whispered Nova. "You can still be maid of honor at the wedding...even if you get a poor fitness report for this exercise because you messed up."

"Oh..._you_," whispered Natalie with a sour look on her face.

"Hush, or they'll put some more shavin' cream in youah hair, Miss Fishah," whispered Hardy from beside her.

"Isn't torture a war crime, Hardy?" she shot back.

"Cool it," muttered Wildstar. "We're supposed to be listening."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Natalie with a sour look on her face, as she wished she could put some shaving cream in Hardy's hair. _Maybe then it wouldn't hang in that eye of yours and look like some psychotic mop, _she thought with disgust. _I think you got over that back injury TOO well, Mister Hardy, she thought again._

Later, that night, after they arrived back in the Megalopolis, Derek, wearing his peacoat and his blues, met Nova at her apartment, sitting down behind her little dining counter when he got there. To his pleasure (and hers) Nova had succeeded in getting rid of every trace of the camo face-paint, and, as a result, looked more than ready for their date. She had, of course, exchanged her coveralls, uniform, and muddy service boots for the new pink dress and sandals she had purchased five days ago at Bloomberg's.

"You look great," said Derek as she made her appearance in her new dress and they kissed.

"I feel much better after the nap I got to take this afternoon, too. Were you able to get some sleep?"

"Yeah. Is your leg all right?"

"How'd you hear about that?" asked Nova.

"Hardy told me. He wasn't gloating, either. Matter of fact..."

"I know, Derek. He apologized before."

"Are you sure it's okay?"

"Derek," said Nova with a huff as she stepped back and raised the hem of her dress a little. "See this spot, right here?" she asked, indicating a spot on her bare lower thigh. Go on, you can come closer," she said with a blush. "There was a red mark, right here, for about two hours after I was shot, but then it went away. Were we so inclined, I could spend the evening dancing in your arms with no problem, okay?" said Nova as she lowered her dress back down over her knee. "I'm fine."

"Good," said Derek with a sigh of relief. "I was just afraid we'd hurt you."

"And, tell the guys that all the shaving cream came out of my hair in the shower, okay?"

"They did that to you, too?" asked Wildstar.

Nova nodded. "Although, I must admit, I didn't get it as badly as Natalie did. Buzz and Kayan really went to town on her, poor thing. It's not too cold out now, is it?" asked Nova.

"Not really. Oh, where's your stockings?"

"There's a shortage on," said Nova brightly. "All my regulation stockings are being kept safely in a drawer so I can pass inspections in my Administration uniform at Headquarters with no problem if I'm called in one day. They're still rebuilding the records, at Headquarters you know, and the Commander said I may have to come in on an off-day from training if I'm needed. Besides, haven't I told you I don't like wearing hose with sandals if I can avoid it? It's not THAT cold today, Derek."

"Oh, that's right. Good thing it's not January, or you'd catch frostbite," chuckled Wildstar.

"If I have to put my heel in your boot, Derek, you'll find it'll hurt."

"Don't know if you can do that in this restaurant."

"Why not?"

"Didn't I tell you it's classic Japanese style? Your shoes come off at the door, madame."

"There goes attack plan one if you get naughty," sighed Nova as she flexed her toes. "Oh, well, I can still elbow you if I have to..."

"Okay, I promise I won't do anything naughty."

"Thank you," said Nova gently as she gave Derek a hug. "Well, shall we go?"

"All right," he said.

Later, at the restaurant, as Nova and Derek shared a large house special, which included every kind of sushi and sashimi one could think of, Derek asked, "Did you hear anything through the scuttlebutt grapevine about your flight instructor, yet?"

"Such as?"

"Well, who it's going to be?"

"No. I didn't hear a lot of scuttlebutt down in Quantico, as you might guess...although I did hear that Hardy and Buzz are going to be training people. They haven't been told who, yet, of course...but..."

"So, you haven't heard anything."

"That's right," said Nova as she picked up a piece of pink tuna and rice with her chopsticks before dipping the whole concoction in her little dish of soy sauce mixed with hot green _wasabi_.

"I take it you didn't hear anything about your students, either?"

"No, except that I've been made aware it'll be fighter-interceptor training. I'll be teaching a squadron, as I think I've told you before, of Super Starfighter pilots."

"Isn't that dangerous?" she asked.

"I'm looking forward to it. It's gonna feel good to be back on duty again after all these days, even if it's a TDY assignment. I'd like to wish you luck, by the way, Nova," he said as he raised a cup of sake' to her, the first he had drank that evening.

"Won't that mess up your equilibrium tomorrow, Derek?"

"You know I won't be flying. Neither will you. We'll both be in ground school for those first few days..."

"...only you'll be lecturing, while I'll be learning," said Nova as she raised her cup of warm sake'.

"Geez...I think you'll have the easier job," said Derek.

"Why?"

"I never...taught before."

"Well, here's to your first lecture as an instructor, tomorrow, Derek," said Nova in a bright, merry tone.

"And here's to your upcoming first flight in a Cosmo Tiger, Nova. _Kampai!_"

_"Kampai!_" repeated Nova. "And...happy landings to both of us."

They clinked their cups and drank, hoping that they'd have a good day tomorrow.

* * *

**V. IN THE EYES OF A TIGER**

**Earth**

**Federal Megalopolis**

**Idlewild Space Naval Air Station**

**Building 301**

**November 23, 2201**

**0646 Hours-Eastern Standard Time**

The next day came. Early in the morning, Wildstar was sitting in a small office on the second floor of one of the classroom buildings at the base...which would be his office as a flight instructor for the next few weeks, looking at the twelve personnel jackets that belonged to the twelve students he had just been assigned. He was unaware of their identities until this moment, by design, since the EDF didn't want its instructors to have any prejudices either for or against their students before they met.

"Can't believe this one," he muttered to himself as he shook his head over a file. "And the one before it! How did this clown from Anglia make it this far in the EDF with this kind of record? I'd love to know the answer to that one," said Wildstar to himself as he drank some nice, strong coffee from a Thermos container. He knew it would be strong because Nova had made it for him at about 0400. She had dropped it off at his quarters with a kiss right before she left the housing complex to come to the base for PT and the orientation meetings she'd have to endure before meeting her flight instructor with her class at 0815 that morning.

A knock came at the door from the other side of the pebbled-techtite privacy window in the office door with the new nameplate LT. CMDR. DEREK WILDSTAR mounted on it, interrupting Wildstar's reverie. "Who is it," he demanded.

"Hey, ah thought you wouldn't maind talkin' to guy who's just in the office next to yoahs, Wildstah!"

"Oh! Hardy! C'mon in," said Wildstar.

The door opened, and Jefferson Davis Hardy, dressed, like Wildstar, in standard duty blues, came into the room, carrying a very thick brown cardboard portfolio like the sort that Wildstar had found the personnel files of his students in. "What'cha doin?" joked Hardy.

"Looking over what I've got to meet in Room 124 at 0830," said Wildstar. "I can't believe some of these records!"

"Oh, you mean you're learnin' about the Good, the Bad and the Ugly, too?" asked Hardy.

"Yeah. I've got two here that I've just read. They're both combat veterans, both from the same ship, as a matter of fact, but, otherwise, they've led totally different lives, and have had...totally different records. Sit down, Hardy, right over there, and put yours on that table. Since we've got the time, we might as well compare notes."

Hardy did so, and then he shut the door behind him, setting the files on a small table that held a computer console. Hardy pulled out the chair from under the table and twisted it around to face Wildstar's desk and the stiff, hard office chair that had been intentionally placed in front of it for students to sit in when they were ordered to "drive around" to their instructor's office for either evaluation or discipline.

"Females," said Hardy in a soft voice. "A little more than half a' mah students are females! You believe that?"

"So are three of mine, Hardy," said Wildstar.

"They're teachin' _females_ to fly Super Starfighters? You gotta be kiddin' me, Wildstah!"

"I'm not kidding, Hardy. I have twelve students, and three of them are females. One of them's a combat veteran, as a matter of fact."

"How's that?" asked Hardy.

"Well, she was one of the two I couldn't get over that I was reading about just now. She's one of the pilots who was assigned to the spacecraft carrier_ Akagi _not long ago."

"Ah heard about the _Akagi! _Isn't she still on her way home?"

"She's still being repaired, last I heard. Well, this pilot was a member of the White Wolves...and..."

"The White Wolves?" asked Hardy. "You mean the bunch that managed to get two flights up in the air and off their carrier's deck right before the Cometine bombers showed up?"

"Yeah, and they managed to kill quite a few of those Scorpion boats, too. The four out of six who made it back to the ship and managed to land through the smoke all got Distinguished Flying Crosses out of the bargain, and I've got two of them in my squadron to teach."

"Who were they?"

"The guy's name is Bryan Hartcliffe...he's one of the...well...he's one of the "Bad" in my squadron."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that if he doesn't watch out, he could be heading for a Bad Conduct Discharge, Jeff. You name it, this Brit's done it," said Wildstar as he showed Hardy his picture.

"Hey, why's he wearin' his hair in one eye?" demanded Hardy. "Only AH can do that!"

"Yeah, they all say that," said Wildstar, winking at his friend. "At least you don't have these little beady-eyed glasses and mustache like this guy. He looks just like one of the Beatles, although I can't remember which one at the moment."

"The Beatles?" asked Hardy. "Who the hell were they? Were they related to Elvis?"

"The Beatles were this famous old twentieth-century rock band that Nova has a fixation on," grinned Wildstar. "She showed me a picture of them once on one of the covers of the albums that resurfaced after the Unification Wars and the Gamilon wars, and they all looked like that guy."

"That's weird," said Hardy. "They were hippies then?"

"What were hippies?" asked Wildstar.

"Weird dudes that grew their hair long, didn't take baths, believed in doing _it_ liake rabbits, and protested against the Vietnam War."

"Strange bunch," said Wildstar. "Although when I took History, I always thought that the old U.S. government shouldn't have been in Vietnam unless they were going to go all out and commit to win the war. Just another example of the politicians taking over the wars, like we went through with the Earth Defense Council. From what I've been able to learn about history, the Beatles were among the people protesting the war, so, I guess they're all right in my book. Their songs didn't sound too bad, either."

"What'd they sound like?"

"This," said Wildstar as he flicked on a cassette player and the sounds of _While My Guitar Gently Weeps _filled the office. "Nova likes that one," said Wildstar as he continued to shake his head over the personnel jackets on his desk. "The things you have to watch out for with this Hartcliffe guy are booze and women. He has a bad record with both."

"Protocol violations?" asked Hardy.

"Well, there was one Article Fourteen hearing with him, and a hell of a lot of warnings," said Wildstar.

They were interrupted by another knock at the door. "Enter!" barked Wildstar.

"Good morning, sir," said the enlisted man who came in and saluted, carrying a large object under his arm. "I was told to bring your new squadron crest here and leave it in your office for mounting. Also, sir," he said, looking at Hardy, "I have a memo for you from Captain Priceman, the Base commander."

"Thanks," said Hardy as he took the memo. The enlisted man was left holding the sign.

"Could you mount it, Private?" asked Wildstar. "There's a metal strip behind my head above the bulletin board."

"Aye, aye, sir," said the enlisted man as he hefted up and mounted a magnetically secured squadron logo. It read: _72nd Astrofighter Interceptor Group-SILVER DRAGONS _around its edges, and curled up amidst a black, star-covered background, there was a fierce-looking Chinese-style flying dragon in silver, holding a flaming sword in one front claw.

"Huh, another old squadron reactivated, huh?" said Hardy.

"Yeah," said Wildstar after he dismissed the enlisted man, who closed the door behind him. "This was an old Gamilon War squadron that all died in 2196 defending the old Mars Perimeter."

I hope we have better luck than that."

"All we're gonna be doin' is trainin'," said Hardy.

"Yeah, but I understand they're going to activate all these groups next year as full-fledged Groups with the appropriate numbers of planes and new assignments. Didn't you hear the briefing?"

"Yeah. And the best of the pilots we train are gonna be the nuclei of these new Groups," said Hardy. "Who's the female in your squadron you were talkin' about?"

"Oh...yeah. The one who was serving beside Bryan Hartcliffe also won a Flying Cross, and shot down one more Scorpion than he did. Her name's...Laurel Hartmann."

"Ah heard about her!" said Hardy, nearly falling off his chair. "She's supposed to be darn hot!"

"I hope you're referring to her ability as a pilot, Hardy."

"Damn straight, Wildstah!" laughed Hardy, looking over at her picture on the front of her personnel jacket. "Boy, she's good. Who else do you have who's notable?"

"Two guys from the _Hermes…_" said Wildstar. "Namely, Sanjeeva Kayan..."

"He's a good guy to work with," said Hardy. "Ah met him on the weekend, durin' the wargames."

"Oh? On whose side?"

"In my squad, Wildstah!"

"Oh. Well, least you were on our side."

"Who's the other guy from the _Hermes?_" asked Hardy.

"A Nebraskan kid, named Darryl Pulvan. He's just twenty-one, too," said Wildstar. "One of my youngest. Would you believe, three kills already?"

"We had more than that when we were twenty-one. _Way_ more," said Hardy.

"Yeah, I know. But we were with the Star Force. From what I read, this Pulvan guy had just joined the ship a week beforehand and he took out three planes in his first flight. Not bad."

"Yeah, not at all," said Hardy. "Wanna hear about my bunch?"

"Go right ahead...and…oh...by the way...what's your Group called?"

"They're a Group that's switched roles. Now, they're the 17th Astrofighter/Scout Group, but, in their original history, they were known as the 117th Astrofighter Group, and..."

"The RED CENTAURS?" asked Wildstar with surprise.

"Yeah. Why'd you look like a goose just walked over yoah grave, Wildstar?"

"Because that was Alex's old group at one time!"

"Yoah brothuh was in that Group?"

"Yeah. For a while, Hardy, Alex was the Commander of that Group. He served two hitches with them; his rookie hitch, and then, later on, years later, he was their CO. As a matter of fact, he was assigned to that Group right before he was transferred into missile boats. He told me, right before he left, that he liked the coincidence that he had served as both the Commander of the 17th Astrofighters and was then the commander of Missile Ship Number 17, the _Paladin. _Would've been funny if I had gotten command of that Group, huh, Hardy?"

"Yeah, said Hardy, as he glanced at the memo.

"What does the CO want," asked Wildstar.

"Not much. He just wants to see me before class," said Hardy. "Guess ah'll have to stop there before I meet my class. You were sayin'?"

"Well, who's in your Group?"

"Well, ah told you ah have five females, and five males that ah know of. Ah haven't received two a' my jackets yet."

"Anyone with combat experience?"

"Just four. And half of 'em are females."

"How's that," asked Wildstar.

"Well, a lot of these pilots were former survey pilots or members of Living Groups that flew Astro-Foxes, although not all of them were," said Hardy. "Six of them flew 'Starseekers' ", said Hardy, referring to a colloquial name for the Type 100 recon and liaison spaceplane, "…and three of them flew straight Tigers on other assignments. One of 'em even flew Super Starfighters at one time," said Hardy.

"I wonder why they did that, Hardy?"

"Because the type of Tiger they'll be flying is both a recon plane and a fighter, as you know. Some of the pilots will be doing survey work in these planes, while others will be flying recon-type assignments," said Hardy as he pulled a number of personnel jackets out of his folder.

"That sounds a lot like Nova's description," said Wildstar. "Is she in your squadron?"

"Not as far as ah know...although, as I said, I've gotten only ten personnel jackets out of twelve so far."

"Where's the rest?"

"Admin tells me they're sending the last two over for me and they'll have 'em when I meet my squadron. They say one jacket's being updated with an award citation, and the other's having an Article 15 slip added to it."

"Who's the first combat veteran that you were talking about?" asked Wildstar.

"The crazy one," said Hardy. "Almost as crazy as you, Wildstah. Her name's Tatiana Lubyanska, and she served on the Triton Base on Neptune during the recent conflict with the Grim Reapers. She's one of the reasons why the Cometines never took Triton."

"What's her record like?"

"Seven kills in the battle of Triton, and two kills in skirmishes beforehand with various loose Cometine squadrons. Her only disciplinary problems have been related to fighting, would ya believe?"

"Fighting?"

"Yeah, Wildstah. She's supposed t' be a tough little one. But she ain't mah biggest potential disciplinary problem."

"Well, who is?"

"Someone who matches your Bryan Hartcliffe in the amount of protocol violations and warnings for drinkin' she's received. In one of those violations, as a matter of fact, ah think they found her with Hartcliffe!"

"What's her name?" asked Wildstar.

"Angelique Burkhardt," said Hardy. "Lookit her picture," said Hardy as he tossed over the personnel jacket, held closed with a rubber band. "Ain't she a cute one?"

Wildstar found himself staring at a cute, deceptively innocent-looking young woman with golden blond hair, large semi-rounded glasses, and dark brown doe-like eyes. "What's kept her out of a court-martial?" asked Wildstar as he turned off the tape player at the end of _Rocky Raccoon._

"Her record as a recon pilot. She served on the patrol cruiser _Bosporus_Remember the battle ah just told you about around Triton?"

"Yeah."

"Well, her ship was doin' picket duty, and she spotted the Cometines comin' in, got in a full report, and managed to hightail her Astro-Fox back to the ship to make her report after having been shot up a bit. She didn't suffer a scratch herself, though. Ah think she's got a "Luck Factor" of 100 percent."

"Where'd they catch her and Hartcliffe?"

"In a broom closet, on Titan Base, six months ago, Wildstah," said Hardy while shaking his head. "Report says she didn't seem to mind bein' with the boy, either. If he's around..."

"Yeah. We'd better keep an eye on them."

"We'd better keep an eye on them and on Tatiana. Even though Tatiana pulled a lot of brownie points out there at Triton, rumor has it she's out to get the recon pilot that spotted the planes…and she learned through the Scuttlebutt Express that Angie is that pilot."

"WHY?" asked Wildstar.

"Easy. She wants to get the person who got her in that furball in the first place. She feels it was all her fault."

Wildstar took a deep breath. "So, since you'll be assigning student flight leaders, based on grades, I'd suggest that you assign someone with top grades as a tough flight leader for Angie's flight and a tough flight leader for Tatiana's flight, and keep them apart. If this Tatiana learns that Burkhardt is the one who got her in this jam, she'll..."

"Word has it she knows."

"Shoot," said Wildstar. "Two people who hate each other in the same squadron. Just like Hartcliffe and Hartmann."

"What's up with them?"

"Word has it those two have a rivalry that makes my old thing with Venture seem tame by comparison. But that's my problem," said Wildstar, sipping at his coffee. "What about yours?"

"Well, ah tried to get Angie transferred out, but they said no dice...and ah didn't know what the hell ah'd do and ah still don't."

"Don't you have to go soon?" asked Wildstar.

"Oh, yeah, I do."

"Have a nice day, and good luck," said Wildstar calmly as he and Hardy exchanged salutes.

* * *

**VI. TIGER IN A TRAP**

**Earth**

**Federal Megalopolis**

**Idlewild Space Naval Air Station**

**Building 301**

**November 23, 2201**

**0756 Hours-Spacetime**

"At ease," ordered the muscular dark-haired officer from behind his mirror-lensed aviator glasses as Hardy relaxed a little before his desk in the luxuriously carpeted office. The nameplate on the desk read CAPT. RAYMOND PRICEMAN, but everyone and his grandfather referred to this tough former pilot and CAG (he had been the first Carrier Air Group Commander of the spacecraft carrier _Hornet_ until October, not long before Saturn-Titan and his latest promotion) as the "Iceman" because of his cold, uncompromising manner.

"First," said Priceman. "I'd like to give you a little friendly advice, Hardy. Your Star Force has been known for its bravery, but it's also been somewhat known for a lack of discipline. I'd just like you to understand that I like to run a very tight ship here. Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant?"

"Yessir," said Hardy.

"Next," said Priceman. " I will tell you, again as all the others will be told, that it is imperative to keep a firm hand on your trainees. We don't need any shenanigans or garbage in this training. We need people trained to fly these planes, and trained to fly them as efficiently as possible. I asked for some of Earth's best officers at this base, and it looks like Command followed my request. Don't let me down, Mister."

"Yessuh," said Hardy firmly.

"I don't think much, between you and I, of the idea of training so many women in your squadron, if you'd ask me," said Priceman.

"Permission to speak candidly, suh," asked Hardy.

"Granted."

"Neither do I. Ah think they'll be nothin' but trouble."

Priceman nodded his head. "I honestly don't think women belong in the cockpit of high-performance astrofighters at all, if you ask me. Still...we have something of a temporary shortage of trained personnel, so Command's inflicting them upon us. I want no trouble, no catfights, and NO instances of fraternization among your trainee pilots, or, for that matter, among your people and people from the other five Groups I'm training here. If it happens, and I can trace any of this back to you, I will have you in here for a gripe-out session, Mister Hardy, the Comet Empire notwithstanding."

"Yessir."

Captain Priceman then gave Hardy two personnel jackets. Hardy noticed one was rather thick, and began to look at it, but Priceman snapped, "You can look over it later, Mister. That one belongs to a double Sunburst of Honor winner. I expect you to use her to keep the other females in line. Like it or not, she's proven herself in my book, although NOT, I stress, as a Recon/Fighter pilot."

Hardy began to ask, "Suh...a DOUBLE Sunburst of Honuh winnuh? Who is she?"

Priceman snapped, "You'll be meeting her in ten minutes, Mister. And I want you to keep your eye out in regards to this other pilot. He's named Wainwright, and he's something of an idiot. We just gave him an Article 15 for malingering. He's a major attitude problem. If he does something else, I'd like you to see me so we can arrange to have him up before me again. If he doesn't wash out, that is."

"Wainwright's the bad one. Name of the other one? Just kinda curious..."

"No time. Take your jackets...and get over to your classroom ASAP. I think they're waiting for you."

"Yessuh." The two men exchanged salutes and Hardy left.

Hardy checked his wristwatch as he washed his face in the Men's head. _Ten minutes left. Not bad. _He dried his face, and opened his portfolio to glance at his lesson outline. _Nine minutes left. Not bad, _he thought. _Maybe I'm gonna survive this heah day._

He checked his hair. It looked okay. Eight minutes left. His uniform looked fine. He stepped out in the corridor and took a drink at the fountain. His mouth felt a little less dry.

Then, Hardy went up the stairwell to the third floor. He passed Room 301 and started a little as he heard Wildstar's voice through the closed door. Glancing through the window, Hardy saw that Derek had begun class early, and was already pointing to various parts of a huge pull-down schematic of a Super Starfighter.

_Voice, presence, poise, _thought Hardy as he walked down the corridor towards the closed door of Room 302._ Command presence, boy. And don't tolerate insubordination from any of them. Shoot. Six minutes left. What am I gonna do? Ah'm dead, you heah me Lord, ah'm dead!_

"You think it's going to be hard?" whispered a young man who was sitting right behind Ensign Angelique Burkhardt in Room 302. There were twenty-four high-backed briefing chairs, like in a ship's ready room, permanently attached to the deck in the classroom. All of them faced a dais that held a podium, a blackboard, a huge video panel, and a section for pull-down schematics in rolls in a carrier. However, only twelve of the seats were filled, so the students sat three to a row in the rows of six, with one seat between each student, even though each student had someone either behind or ahead of them. Seating had been by a predetermined seating chart, and each student had been assigned a seat, a seat where each would sit during all of ground school and during subsequent meetings of the group each morning in this classroom.

"I don't think so. What's your name?"

"Pearson. Ted Pearson. I'm just an Ensign, ma'am...and..."

"That's all right," said Angie with a soft smile, softly flipping some of her blond hair up over her white uniform collar. "We'll make it through this together, all of us."

"Really?" he whispered. "Look at your friends up there...the dark-haired girl...and..."

"And who?" asked Angie.

"You know. Her. She's already filled out the Orientation packet and she's starting on her notebook. I've never met someone with a record like that...let alone sat through training with someone that famous. "

"She's like the rest of us. She's here to learn," whispered Angie. "And as for that other girl, she's no friend of mine. She's..."

"Do I hear you talking about me, Burkhardt?" asked a raven-haired girl with piercing blue eyes who spoke in a whisper, but with a menacing Slavic accent.

"Not really," said Angie. "I'm simply mentioning that I don't really know you that well."

"Good," she said. "Because I'm going to do so well here that I'm going to make you wash out, Burkhardt. Then you can go home to California and cry in your mother's apron. You..."

"Excuse me," said the honey-blonde who sat one seat to the right of Tatiana Lubyanska. "Aren't we supposed to be quiet until the instructor shows up, Tatiana?"

Tatiana was about to snap a retort at Nova Forrester, but she thought better of it when she compared Nova's blue uniform collar (her prerogative as a Group Leader and Senior Lieutenant) to her own white Junior Lieutenant's collar. So Tatiana replied, "She's right, darlink," while looking acidly right at Burkhardt. "I think we'd do well to stifle our impulses, wouldn't you agree?"

Angie nodded coldly, wondering exactly what Tatiana had against her. She had never even met the girl face-to-face until PT that morning, and it seemed that, for some reason, Lubyanska just hated her on sight. She had been staring her down constantly while Nova, by virtue of her rank as the senior-most student of the squadron, had led the Red Centaurs through their calisthenics and run around the base that morning when they had met in formation before the Base monument on the cold parade ground, just as eleven other training squadrons were led through their morning routines in sweats by the senior student present as an exercise in group bonding. Angie wondered if Tatiana had tried to elbow her during part of the morning run. She had no idea if that was the case or not, so she had said nothing to anyone.

Angie also swore that, during the run, she had glimpsed Bryan Hartcliffe in one of the other training squadrons that ran past them in their run around the base. If that was the case...well, if that was the case, then Angie knew that she'd have to watch herself. That time with Bryan had gotten her into trouble, and she hadn't seen him again...but part of her wanted to see him again, while part of her hoped that she'd never see him again.

In short, at this point, Angelique Burkhardt didn't know if she loved Bryan Hartcliffe for being an adventurous party animal (somewhat like herself) or hated him for being such a cad. _The nerve of him, getting me drunk like that and then taking advantage of me...even though it was **so much fun** being taken advantage of, _she thought as she found herself sketching a picture of him on a blank page of her notebook, and then found herself scribbling it out as she looked up for the instructor.

Looking down towards the door, she spotted Nova Forrester, of all people, looking out the window with something like an almost dreamy look on her face as an authoritative voice that Angie didn't recognize filtered through the wall of the next classroom, somewhat muffled by distance and the substance of the wall itself. Angie caught Nova writing something in her notebook, and then looking down, glancing through long-lashed eyes at the notebook before fixing her gaze on the door.

_Is she looking for the instructor...or thinking about something else before class starts?_ thought Angie, totally unaware that the authoritative but quiet senior officer of their squadron had been on a similar wavelength with her for a moment, but from a different end of the spectrum, namely because she recognized, all too well, the voice in the next room that sounded like a blur to Angie and the others. But, while Angie was thinking about an illicit romp in a closet with Bryan Hartcliffe, Nova Forrester had been writing, in small, fine letters in her notebook: the words: _November 23, 2201--. So close...and yet so far. I wish the instructor would show up. Hearing HIM in the next room is just driving me mad! Why hasn't class started yet? Worse yet, why isn't it December 26th yet?_

Luckily, no one saw Nova's small note to herself...a note she'd dutifully transcribe in her diary that night, as was her wont. Likewise, no one saw the doodle that Angie Burkhardt had drawn...a doodle she was blushing at as she looked through the scrawled lines on her paper.

Angie looked up at the clock. _8:14,_ she thought. _When's that guy coming in?_

_8:14, _thought Tatiana as she finished filling out her orientation packet._ When's that instructor showing up so that I don't have to concentrate on this vapid Amerikanski next to me with the freaky glasses who almost cost me my life?_

_8:14, _thought Nova as she covered over her diary entry with the first page of what would be her notes, with spaces prepared for the instructor's name, office location, and office hours. It was just as she had done for three years, without fail, during her time at the University of Colorado under the near-universal accelerated course of those days. The habits earned there also served her well in her subsequent active-duty training courses. _When's class going to start? At least Derek's calmed down a little in there. I hope I didn't make his coffee TOO strong this morning..._

_8:14, _thought Hardy as he stood outside, making sure his lecture notes were ready. _I hope I don't make a jackass outta myself today..._

Hardy then checked his chronograph._ 8:15_, he thought. _Launch!_

Thinking that it would be a neat idea, since he thought it was cool when the old-line instructors like Commodore Hoshiyama, Admiral Gideon, and Rear Admiral Eckart had started class each morning in this manner at the Space Fighters' Training School, Hardy made a decision. He was going to give them some old-line military snap on their first day. He was sure everyone in that room had either been exposed to those old salts or someone like them in their careers as cadets regardless of whether or not they had gone to the SFTS or some private school where they had been in ROTC. He walked up towards the door, pivoted, and then rapped smartly three times on the doorjamb before opening the door.

His blood froze a little as he heard the unmistakable voice of Nova snap, "Room, ATTENTION," as she came to her feet, followed swiftly by eleven others, with the whole room at attention when he opened the door and strode in, giving the room a sharp glance before walking up to the podium and snapping his portfolio down sharply onto the podium.

"Good mornin', class," snapped Hardy.

"Good morning, SIR!" snapped all twelve trainees, their instincts and thoughts submerged in the group mind for the moment.

Hardy stood there, looking at the class. _Ah don't believe it,_ he thought. _I got Nova in mah class. The same lady that Buzz, Kayan and I did up with shavin' cream is one a' mah students! Oh, GREAAAT! If ah mess up, Wildstar's gonna KILL me! Still, gotta carry on!_

"All hands...SEATS!" he snapped.

Everyone, at once, sat down, and sat with their pens at the ready.

"Good morning, everyone, mah name is Senior Lieutenant Jefferson Hardy. I'm heah because I've been assigned to teach all of you how to fly the Cosmo Tiger II, Type 2A, an all-purpose, multi-mission Astrofighter/Recon Aerospaceplane. Today, all of you are the 17th Astrofighter-Reconnaissance Group, known informally as the "Red Centaurs." Our purpose, and ouh mission, is to learn the specifications, mechanics, and particulars of the Cosmo Tiger II, Type 2A on the ground, put yuh in a simulator for a short time, and then put you in the real bird, first, with an instructor, and then in solo flight."

"After all of yew pass your solo check flight, provided you all pass, we will then concentrate on learning the fighter and reconnaissance tactics yew will all need to know to survive in the atmosphere and in space as a group. Then, if we have time, and if such a vessel becomes available because of the current material situation of the Fleet, ah'd like to have all of yew practice takeoffs from and landings aboard a capital warship before we progress to the final stage.

That final stage will be a simulated mission in which all of you will have the opportunity and the imperative to practice your recon skills and fighter tactics in a simulated battle that could easily make you a casualty in real life at full weapons powuh. It will be so challenging that if you mess up your flyin', you won't have to worry about washin' out, no more, 'cause you'll either be in a hospital bed for ages or standin' up before the Pearly Gates. However, none o' you are gonna mess up like that this cycle. See, the base commander's got a chip on his shoulder because two of his instructors screwed up and let people die in the last trainin' cycle. I ain't planning' on letting anyone die. If someone here doesn't have the right stuff, I'd sooner wash you out and letcha live than see you...mess up and die and take several million credits' worth of Government Property with yew!"

"If none o' you think you have the...stuff..." said Hardy, correcting himself yet again, substituting "stuff" for "_cuyones_" in his rant because he knew that 50 of his students didn't possess the anatomy necessary for that comment to make any sense as he paused. "If you think you don't have it, then you can march outta here, go see Captain Priceman, and request assignment to somethin' safer and less challenging than high-performance recon/fighter trainin' in the new model! Anyone want to leave?" asked Hardy as he walked over to the door and threw it open.

No one left.

"Good," he said as he quietly shut the door and took his place again. "Now, let's get those orientation packets done. Before we begin, I'll go around the room. I'm sure all of you got acquainted this mornin' durin' PT, but if yew didn't, I'll have every one of you sound off as I take your packet from you, givin' your name, rank, Group Assignment, and last assignment so we know what this new squadron's made of. Got that?"

Everyone nodded.

"Then, after we do that, I'll start telling' you all about the Cosmo Tiger II, Type 2A. You've got five minutes. Finish your packets if you haven't already!"

Hardy leaned against the podium and took a welcome breath as he watched the students filling out their packets. These were basically several sheets of paper stapled together to form a questionnaire in which each student gave their name, rank, quarters location, experience, awards, honors, and decorations, flight experience, and ultimate service goals, including assignments hoped-for in the next six months.

Five minutes passed as everyone wrote, with those who had completed their packets going over them again. Hardy gave them an extra minute, and then, he strode back to the rear of the room, to the far corner, near the windows.

"I'll take that," he said, taking the papers from a young Afro-American woman. "Sound off, would'ja?"

"Sir, my name is Pamela Daniels. My rank is Ensign, and I've been a Living Officer. My last assignment was as an environmental survey officer in Indonesia, where I flew a Type 100 "Starseeker". In six months, I hope to be assigned to a new space warship as part of her Living Group."

"All right," said Hardy. "Next."

"Sir," said a young Oriental man as he came to his feet. "My name's Junior Lieutenant Yasuo Kirishima. My last assignment was at Moonbase, where I flew a Cosmo Tiger as part of one of the Groups flying from the Moon Surface Air Station. I got to bring down a Cometine recon plane during the crisis, but I was on medical leave due to an inner-ear virus when Zordar attacked and melted the moon and killed many of my comrades. Since I've been assigned to learn Recon duty, I hope that my next assignment will be aboard a new carrier, where I can spot any enemy forces and report them ASAP."

Hardy nodded, and went on to the next officer. "Sir," said a red-haired young woman as she came to her feet. "My name's Lieutenant Colleen Schaefer. My last assignment was aboard the patrol cruiser _Volga_from which I flew a Type 100 as a recon pilot. I hope to be reassigned to either a larger warship or a base, flying the new model. The most momentous moment of my life was watching a man I cared about die on my ship when a Cometine plane attacked us. I never got out in combat, though. I wished my plane would've had weapons so I could've gone out and given them what they deserve. I can't wait to get ready to do the same with the new model."

"Good sentiment," said Hardy, "but recon pilots don't LOOK for trouble. They look to get out of it. Your weapons are meant to give yuh that chance, not to settle scores. Next?" he said as he went over the far portion of the next row.

"Sir," said a dark-haired young woman. "My name's Ensign Tania Carefay. "I last served in Hawaii, flying out of Pearl as an environmental survey pilot in a Starseeker. I haven't done that much in my life, and haven't met so many distinguished persons before, sir. I hope to go on in the Fleet, serving in another such environmental survey post, maybe even on an interstellar ship. Maybe even..."

"The Star Force?" said a mocking, Russian-accented voice from the front of the room as several persons chuckled. Hardy raised his hand and snapped, "If anyone else laughs or makes any rude comments, you'll be doin' PT with me after class in mah office! Ah don't need no malarkey today! GOT THAT?"

Silence reigned for a moment. "Good. Most o' yew probably heard where ah been last. Anyone in this room can get there given the proper determination and skills, so it ain't a joke to think any o' you can make it there. Some o' us have, and we're just people who put on our pants one leg at a time like the rest o' you! No one in this heah room is a plaster saint, and no one in heah is little Mister or Miss Nobody! GOT that!" snapped Hardy, surprised that his thoughts were coming that fast.

Silence reigned again as Hardy went to the next person. "You are?"

"Sir, my name's Ensign John Wainwright," said a tall, thin, man with his dark hair in a crewcut as he stood up and Hardy thought _Yoah the one the Old Man warned me about. What's yoah problem?_

Hardy looked on as Wainwright continued with, "I last served on Mars Base. I was a recon pilot flying a Starseeker. Never been in combat, though. I'd like, sir, to serve on a carrier in a recon squadron. I've got no scores to settle...I'm just Joe Average, I guess," he joked. "That's all there is to it."

Hardy went on to the next person, a stocky man who wore a senior officer's blue collar. "You are?"

"Sir, my name's Senior Lieutenant Eric Wojneski," said the young dark-haired man. "I last served on the spacecraft carrier _Hornet _where I flew a Tiger. I was home on emergency leave due to a death in the family when Admiral Gideon called the Fleet to Saturn-Titan, and so, I guess I missed everything. I liked the camaraderie as a squadron member on the _Hornet,_ and I'd like to be on another boat soon as a Recon Squadron leader. However, I'll settle for a base if I have to go anywhere else. That's all, sir."

"Okay," said Hardy as he mentally pegged the mature Wojneski as a potential flight leader, and not just by virtue of his rank, either.

"Going down the line again...you are?"

"Ensign Zvi Mendelmann, sir. I flew a Type 100, and served as an environmental survey pilot flying out of Iran, sir. I'd like to be assigned to a planetary base, flying survey missions. I'm glad I was assigned here, sir."

"So am I," said Hardy. "You sound like yew have a good attitude. Next. Yew are?"

"Sir, my name's Ensign Ted Pearson," said the young blond-haired man confidently. "I flew an Astro-Fox out of Mars Base until recently, and I'd like to take the new model and fly recon missions out of the outer solar system. I'm looking forward to flying the new model, sir. That's that."

"Next?" said Hardy, standing before an Afro-American man.

"Sir, my name's Lieutenant Gabe Jackson. I flew both Type 100's and Super Starfighters in my career. My last assignment was to the 23rd Interceptor Squadron, the Silver Foxes, flying missions out of Ganymede Base. When Zordar showed up, I took care of some stragglers. And if anyone here thinks combat is fun, it's not...not when you see your buddies buy the farm out in deep space. I'd like to get on a carrier or battlewagon if I can, when we build more. Never flown off a ship before, so I'd like to learn."

"Good career objective," said Hardy. "Now, ah'm up heah in the front row," he said, looking down at Forrester, Lubyanska and Burkhardt. "If yew don't maind a joke, if any one a' you gives me a guy's name, you'h in trouble," he snapped, making the room laugh a bit. "Now, hopin' that yew three ain't named Frank, Steve, or Joe," he said, going on down to Angie, "Would you mind telling me your name?"

"Sir, my name's Ensign Angelique Burkhardt. I was in combat, and, well, I flew a Starseeker," she said in her breathy California-type voice as two guys in the back of the room snickered.

"Who was that?" barked Hardy.

"Us, sir," said Kirishima and Wainwright as they stood to attention.

"And why were you laughing at Miss Burkhardt?"

"Because, sir, she sounds like she's from California," said Wainwright.

"Yeah. We thought she sounded like she came straight from the beach," said Kirishima.

"Well, can she help where she comes from?" snapped Hardy. "Can you, Kirishima, help it cause you come from Great Island, or you, Wainwright, sound laike you come from Whitebread, Nebraska?"

"No, sir."

"You remain standin' until we're done! After everyone's done, you two idiots will meet me on the parade ground, drop and gimme thirty good ones. GOT THAT?"

"YESSIR!" they barked.

"Continue, Miss Burkhardt!" snapped Hardy.

"I...well...I flew my Starseeker off the patrol cruiser _Bosporus_. I'd like to serve on another ship, if I can manage it...a bigger ship," she said with a blush. "That's all I've got to say, sir," she said.

"Be seated, then," said Hardy. "Next. YOU," snapped Hardy as he pointed at Tatiana.

"Sir, my name's Tatiana Lubyanska. I was in combat, too. I had seven kills in the battle of Triton, flying a single-seat Cosmo Tiger II. I enjoy fighting and I enjoy combat! My most exciting moment, recently, was seeing three Cometines fall prey to my lasers in just two minutes flat! However, I'd like to diversify my career a little, so I'd like to serve a hitch flying recon planes, as well. I got my wish, sir. I consider myself lucky. Someday, I would like to command a fighter Group of my own, though. That's my life goal, sir."

"Well, you're smart, you're tough, and you don't have an assertiveness problem," snapped Hardy. "But heah, remember that yoah heah to learn, not to teach US what to do, and especially not me!"

"Now, last of all, for you," he said, facing Nova. "You are?"

"Sir, my name's Nova Forrester. I've been in combat recently, although not in a plane. The last thing that I flew was a Type 100, and all my flight time's been in survey and recon missions. My last assignment, where I didn't fly much, was aboard the space battleship _Argo_. I...I think everyone here knows what we did recently. My most terrifying moment recently was seeing Prince Zordar himself laughing at us over our video screen. I'd like to go back on the _Argo _at some point soon and explore some more interesting places, but my ultimate goal in life is to become a medical officer and help people. I've...already seen too much fighting. It's not pretty, and it's not glorious. I recently heard someone tell me "_War does not allow us to be our better selves_", and he was absolutely right."

Everyone was silent, until Lubyanska whispered, "Ma'am, whoever told you that must have been a real WIMPSKI!"

"Lubyanska!" barked Hardy, who made Tatiana jump.

"Yes...Yessir," she said.

"You get back up. When Kirishima and Wainwright give me their thirty after class, yoah givin' me, FORTY, Miss! On yoah feet! NOW!"

Tatiana stood up.

"If I've told you once, I've told all of you twice," barked Hardy. "This is not a GAME! We are in a deadly, nasty business! War's a serious thing! Anyone who's been there and thinks it's fun is a sick puppy! You all got that?"

"Yes, SIR!" barked the class.

"I can't HEAH you!" yelled Hardy.

"Yes, SIR!" they yelled, not feeling so bad when they heard the class in the next room going through a similar exchange. Over the silence, Nova clearly heard Derek barking, "and if YOU think it's funny, Mister Hartcliffe, you can do pushups ALL day out on that parade field, Mister!"

"Are we ready to teach, yet?" asked Hardy.

"Yessir!" barked the class, but Nova put up her hand.

"Yes. Recognized, if you have somethin' to contribute!" barked Hardy. "Stand up and spit it out!"

Nova came to her feet and said, "For the information of those who don't know where I recently heard the expression "_War does not allow us to be our better selves..._" I heard it personally from Desslok of Gamilon before he told us how to defeat the Comet Empire, sir. More than ever, I maintain that our former enemy was correct. I think today we've seen more than enough evidence of that, sir. If I can speak freely, I think it's a shame, especially since we're seeing that sort of behavior on our side. But we shouldn't prejudge anyone. If Desslok can change, so can anyone else."

"Thank you, Miss Forrester. That was a worthy contribution," said Hardy. "But if yew forget to gain the floor, yew'll be in mah office doin' pushups with the other jokers that day, and that goes for any one of yew! GOT it?" he said, rolling up his eyes at the class.

"YESSIR," they barked.

"Now, " said Hardy as he turned to the board, rolling up his eyes again and shaking his head while the miscreants sat down after he motioned for them to do so, "...let's take a look at the design of the Cosmo Tiger II, Model 2A," he said, as he pulled down a chart. "The plane is built in the following manner..."

On that note, Hardy's class progressed, going on without further incident until lunchtime, when the miscreants spent their time with Hardy doing their punishments. Little was Hardy to know that so much of the training cycle was thus prophesied the very first day...

* * *

**VII. DARK DISCOVERY**

**Garalenda System**

**The Edge of the Milky Way**

**Vicinity of the Former Fifth Defense**

**Line of the Gamilon Empire**

**November 25, 2201**

**0942 Hours-Spacetime**

* * *

Just twelve or so Earth days after their final confrontation with the Star Force, the Gamilon Fleet arrived at the edge of the Garalenda System.

Desslok had just come back up to the command bridge of the _Eliasite._ Talan could tell, based upon his walk and the deliberation on his face, that Desslok had come to a decision.

"Talan," he said.

"Yessir."

"Open up a link to the entire Fleet. The time has come. I must speak to all of our men and women throughout the Fleet. Have them gathered and on station before their viewscreens as soon as possible."

"Yessir!" said Talan with a smile, and more than a hint of determination in his voice. _At last_, he thought.

Soon, every Gamilon throughout the Fleet was at attention. A moment later, Desslok's image appeared throughout the Fleet.

"Officers and soldiers of Gamilon," said Desslok. "Again, I salute you! The honor of Gamilon, our homeland, has just been tested, and we have prevailed, although not in the manner that I anticipated..." said Desslok with a long, and significant pause. "Gentlemen, with the passing of our alliance with the Prince Zordar of the Comet Empire, and the defeat of the Gatlantis mothership near Earth, one era of Gamilon history has just ended, and a new one is now about to dawn!"

"For a long time, we have been homeless, living as strangers in far places. I thank you again for all that we have borne together, and all that we will yet bear."

"When we first reunited, even as my heart burned with the flame of vengeance, I felt I was fighting hard to save Gamilon. Even though our war with Earth has ended...do not make the mistake of thinking that its intended end, the desire to save the Gamilon race, has ended with it!"

"The universe extends to infinity. Somewhere, at the end of our journey, a new home, a new Gamilon, awaits our arrival. Today, we shall begin our quest for the new homeworld that awaits us. Here, today, we shall take our first step, as we make way for Garalenda. Here, we will begin to rebuild the Fleet, so that we will be ready for the day when we again have our home, the day when our new, better way of life shall begin at last!"

"On that day, gentlemen, we shall again begin to forge a new Empire from the ashes of our long war; and it shall be an Empire based upon our most urgent need; the defense of our new homeland! For that reason, and for that reason above all, we will need to be strong. Here, we shall remain in order to begin rebuilding. Then, we shall head further into our old domain, to Miralden, near our old Third Defense Line. Then, our quest will truly commence!"

"Gentlemen, I would now like to extend my appreciation for all you have done and all you have borne, and I would like to tell you that, from this day forth, I shall expect even more! Together, we will at long last return home to a new homeland!"

At that, all of the troops saluted and began to cheer loudly.

Desslok returned the salute, as Talan turned to him and said, "Again...Magnificent!"

When the cheering died down, Desslok was about to open his mouth to speak again, but he stopped when he saw a grey-clad staff officer approaching Talan with a message padd.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Leader Desslok," said the officer. "We have just made contact with one of our picket destroyers operating from out of Garalenda..."

"...And?" asked Desslok.

"The destroyer's crew reported that they were attacked not long ago, just before our arrival."

"Attacked?" asked Desslok as his face hardened. "But...by whom?"

"They reported that their communications equipment was damaged, so they regret not being able to send a clearer picture," said the staff officer as a hazy image appeared on the screen. "This was the image that they picked up before they intercepted the enemy and sent it to its end, with the loss of half the destroyer's crew in the battle..."

A moment later, the blurry image of a missile boat appeared on the screen. Talan's eyebrows went up for a moment; since the coloration was totally unfamiliar to him. The enemy boat was painted in a strange two-tone grey scheme; light grey on most of its superstructure, with a dark, almost charcoal-grey underbelly and tail.

The configuration, however, was not unfamiliar to Talan, and it was even more familiar to Desslok, whose mouth came grimly set as he thought about the import of the missile boat's configuration.

"Cometines," he hissed. "One of their Space Scorpion boats, Talan."

"What are they doing out here?" mused Talan.

"General Dyre once boasted to me that Zordar's House controlled all of our old domains. It appears his boast was not an idle one, Talan," said Desslok with gritted teeth.

"But, those aren't the colors of Zordar's House, are they?" asked Talan.

"No, they're not," said Desslok. "As to which House they are...I have an inkling, but we shall have to capture and ...interview...a pilot of theirs to be certain. I am certain of one fact, though, Talan."

"And that is?"

"Their intentions are not friendly," said Desslok. "And, as long as they stand in our way, or, make any sort of move to threaten any of my allies, old, or new, my intentions toward them will be far from felicitous, either. Am I clear, Talan?"

"Yessir," he snapped.

"Good. In order for our enemies...whomever they are, to be aware of the same, we will remain at a high level of alert until we reach Garalenda. Order our fighter patrols to take off at once to maintain our inner perimeter. Our destroyers will maintain our outer perimeter, as usual."

"Of course, sir," said Talan.

_Again, it begins_, thought Desslok grimly as Gamilon fighters and bombers began to roar off the carrier's flight decks. _And, again, we have a cause to fight for...and intruders to oppose._

"Cometine...devils..." hissed Desslok to himself as he stared out into space.

* * *

**VIII. ...OVER DINNER**

**Earth**

**Federal Megalopolis**

**Idlewild Space Naval Air Station**

**Building 400**

**November 26, 2201**

**1806 Hours-Eastern Standard Time**

* * *

A few days later, on Thursday, Hardy and Wildstar got together again over a rushed dinner in the commissary at about 1800. Hardy asked Wildstar how it was going for him, and Derek told him, "Good group...just have two with shaky grades on the first test."

"Who?"

"This guy named Tannenberg, and this female named Carroway," said Wildstar as he took several bites of food. "What about you?" he said after a minute.

"I have four," said Hardy. "Don't know what's with these trainees."

"Hardy, is it true you don't like this bunch because they're half females?"

"Yoah right! Who told yuh?" he asked.

"Scuttlebutt. That's all," said Wildstar. "No trainees from your squadron have been talking to me about this at all, in case you were wondering. For one thing, most of them don't know me. For another thing...those who do...make a pointed practice of keeping quiet about your training other than the usual pleasantries about your doing a great job and being fair."

"Glad to heah I'm bein' fair," said Hardy. "I'm tryin' to be...but still...I don't like it."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't feel very gallant about trainin' a young lady to go out and shoot down an enemy pilot, because ah don't think it's womanly, and I can't see the idea of some young lady bein' shot down or crashin' her plane. It even happens in trainin', ya know. Someone from the White Vipers turned into a grease spot on Tuesday, ya know..."

"Yeah," said Wildstar. "I know."

"How do you feel about it?"

"I don't feel very gallant doing this sort of thing, either," said Wildstar. "For example: my trainee Laurel Hartmann is really good. Much better than I expected. She's picking up things about the Super Starfighter that I have to think about to remember; and I've been flying the plane regularly for over two years."

"Such as?"

"Tech data. Maximum airspeed; rate of weapons fire, details about the fire control computer...heads-up-display...best tactics and maneuvers the plane can fly...you name it...she seems to know it word-perfect."

Hardy took a deep breath. "Hell...Got someone laike that in my squadron, too. Knows stuff about the Taiguh I'm surprised about; stuff like the chemical composition of the primer warhead for the missile. Person's seeming to remember it by comparin' it to the organic benzene ring!"

"What's this person's gender?"

"Female."

"Let me guess; life-science background?"

"The only one theh with a full nursin' certification."

"And...was she Star Force," asked Wildstar with a grim sort of grin.

Hardy just nodded. "And ah think you know who I'm talkin' about. Shoot...she's HARD to trip up in class discussions."

"Class rank?"

"Somewhere between first and second outta twelve."

"Like Hartmann," grins Wildstar. "Funny...isn't it? We both have misgivings about these females in fighter planes...but they're blowing the doors off the rest of the class."

"This is ground school. Wait until we put them in a cockpit," said Hardy.

"That's what I'm worried about," said Wildstar. "And...not only for the most obvious reason. I'm worried about it, too."

"Can ah heah why?"

"Well," began Wildstar with a swallow. "You know that flying a fighter is inherently dangerous. You know I've always hated writing those condolence letters to widows, mothers, girlfriends...children of those left behind when someone messed up on the _Argo _on any one of her missions. I don't like seeing those portraits go up over graves at Heroes' Hill...for anyone. But, for a fighting man...you come to expect it," said Wildstar with a sigh. "I hate sending people to die...but it's part of our profession. A part I don't like, but a part I live with."

"Ah know what cha mean."

"But...when you have a female in that position...it makes it worse," sighed Wildstar. "You remember Kristin Barrows...from our first mission to Iscandar? The sergeant in Living Group with two kids?"

Hardy nodded, but added, "Two kids...?"

"And a husband ill with radiation sickness. When we got home from Iscandar...I felt obligated to visit those children in the orphanage...tell them how brave they were...and how brave their mother was...and tell them a little of how she died at Rainbow Galaxy. They cried. I didn't. Not then. I cried later on, though...luckily..."

"Nova helped ya through that one. Ah remember it. She talked to me about it a night later, after one of the parties you didn't make..."

"Yeah. And that's the hardest point of all. This Laurel...I know she doesn't have children...but what if she crashed and then...burned…was injured...or even died? How would I face her parents, Hardy? How would I face her boyfriend...if she has one? How could I tell another man that the person he cherishes the most in the whole world is dead...and it might be my fault for not teaching her enough?"

Hardy took a very deep breath, and couldn't look Wildstar in the eye. "Wildstah...now yew know exactly what ah'm goin' through teachin' all six of those females in mah squadron...especially..."

"I know," said Wildstar as he grasped Hardy's hand across the table. "I guess...now you know...why I don't feel too great about...well...females in planes. The danger's much too great...and the risks they take...they..."

Wildstar suddenly stopped talking as soon as someone handed him a fresh plastic cup of tomato juice from behind without even asking. Hardy's mouth fell open as the newcomer softly said, "Gentlemen...EVERYONE here will be taking a risk next week when we start to fly...instructors... as WELL as trainees."

"Nova...I...," stammered Wildstar as he turned his head to look his fiancée in the eye.

"You can't sit heah," grinned Hardy. "Students can't fraternize with instructors. You know the rules, Nova."

"Then, you'll have to leave, sir, won't you?" grinned Nova. "You see, I'm just sitting down beside my fiancée, thank you," said Nova as she sat down.

"See ya later, Hardy," said Wildstar.

"No, wait," said Hardy. " Belay that. I'm stayin'. I'll just pretend you ain't heah, Nova."

"Good. I'll pretend I didn't hear that, sir," smiled Nova sweetly. "As I was saying, I worry about the instructor of one of these squadrons just as much as he worries about one of our trainees. The last time I checked...I heard that it was nearly as risky for experienced instructors to fly Super Starfighters as it is for trainees to fly Tigers. And...instructors also leave behind widows...orphans...and bereaved fiancées...when they crash...just like female pilots who have the misfortune of being in accidents. If men take risks...so can women...GENTLEMEN," said Nova sternly.

"You're right," said Derek after a long, awkward moment. "But I still want you to be careful...don't try to show everyone up...remember...this is just training..."

"I'll remember that if a certain Super Starfighter pilot I know remembers that he's supposed to be an instructor and not a hotshot up there," retorted Nova with a little smile. "Got that?"

"Yeah," said Wildstar. "Uh, where are you going?

"I forgot a tomato juice, Derek. I'll be right back," said Nova quickly and quietly.

"Your top student, I take it?" asked Wildstar with a slow grin.

"Shoot, don't rub it in, suh," whispered Hardy.

"She's earned it," said Wildstar. "I came by the other night to drop something off, and she had her nose in every reference manual on the Cosmo Tiger II that you could think of. When Nova studies, believe me, she studies."

"And, she's already got a special job, even though she doesn't know it. Her classroom grades'll justify it," said Hardy seriously.

"What in blazes are you assigning her to, Hardy?"

"Easy. She's gonna be the leader of the flight that ah'm putting both Angie and Tatiana in. Ah figure if Nova kept Knox and his hardened, rough Space Marines in line without throwing a punch, she'll find it a piece of cake to baby-sit two other females. Solves mah problem easy as pie, Wildstah. Didja pull this one off for me?"

"No...I didn't," said Wildstar angrily. "And, if you don't train Nova with one hundred and twenty percent of your attention, keep her from crashing her plane, and keep her out of trouble, Hardy, you're dead meat," said Wildstar with fire in his eyes. "Got that?"

"Whooo," said Hardy. "And ah thought you were gonna be mad at me, Wildstah!"

At that, both men looked at each other angrily and began to laugh uproariously to break the tension. Their laughter grew louder, and louder, and Wildstar almost fell off his chair.

A moment later, Nova showed back up, looking bemused at the two men as she stood there holding an extra cup of tomato juice. She got their attention by clearing her throat a few times.

When Derek and Hardy finally looked over, Nova smiled again. "Good," she said. "Thank you. You two can get back to your little joke in a few minutes, after I give Hardy this tomato juice, even though, of course, it's a gift you don't deserve, any more than I deserved that shaving cream," added, looking at Hardy.

"What do you mean?" asked Hardy.

"You know what I mean," said Nova with a frosty smile as she sat down.

"Well, WHAT do you mean?" asked Wildstar insistently, as he turned to glare at Hardy.

"Quantico," said Nova softly. "Mister Kayan, Mister Rutherford, and Mister Hardy's interrogation of two of their captives during that wargame. Need I say more?"

"What do you mean?" said Derek in a deadly low voice. "And what was that about shaving cream?"

"Well..." said Hardy. "Uh...it was her friend Natalie that got the most of it...and...Nova...ah'm really sorry. Ah didn't mean it!"

"Hardy. Are you saying you smeared shaving cream in my fiancée's hair the other day down in Quantico," asked Wildstar.

"Just a little...uhh...so we wouldn't discriminate...and it was Buzz's idea...and..."

Wildstar glowered at Hardy, until an idea occurred to him. "Hardy, if this had been any other time, and in any other situation with Nova, I'd be livid. Totally livid. But, I've learned to control myself. Really. And, as a concession to your stupidity, you can just stand there in training for the next few days, trying to earn back the respect of one of your own while you lecture her, without a word of advice from me, and a repeat of what I said before. If you mess up, Hardy, and get her in any sort of trouble, you will be in so much trouble, you won't know what to do. Got it?"

"Yeah...ah got it, Wildstah. Ah got it," said Hardy in a cold sweat as both Derek and Nova looked at him.

Derek smiled to himself, watching his comrade sweat. _Revenge,_ thought Wildstar, _is a dish best served cold. And I understand it gets VERY cold in those classrooms..._

Hardy then looked at Nova, unsure of what she'd do, until she handed him a glass of tomato juice. "This is a peace offering of sorts. Your apology is accepted," she sighed. "I went up there and got another one when I remembered that you liked that on the _Argo _almost as much as Derek did, Jeff," said Nova to Hardy.

"Yeah...I did. Thanks, Nova. But don't tell any of the other trainees you're into buyin' me tomato juice! They'll think you're bribing me for good grades."

"I won't…sir..." said Nova impishly. "I also won't tell them about how a certain... female... helped patch you up on the _Argo _back in 2199 after you crashed a Black Tiger, okay?"

"Wildstar, once again, ah think one of my students is engagin' in fraternization with the instructor," said Hardy.

"Hardy...she didn't say who the female was," said Wildstar.

"Did she?"

"No...but we all know it was..."

"And in the interests of discipline, let's save the rest of this for the Officer's Club...on Sunday night, over some beer, okay?" said Nova.

"Right," said Hardy. "Don't you have to study?"

"Yes...after I eat something, sir," said Nova with a smile as she set down her tray and began to nibble at a salad. "Derek...if it's all right, do you think we can meet at the house site after our classes next Wednesday night?"

"The house?"

"Yes. I'd like to see how it's coming, and I'd like you there with me if you can find the time, Derek."

"Well...next Wednesday's a short training day for me...what about you?"

"Will be if they don't screw up and have ta put in extra houhs," chuckled Hardy.

"Sounds like we have everything set, then," said Wildstar.

"Derek, I have someone from my squadron I'd like you to meet over lunch one day next week. I think I'd like to ask her to help us out on the day after Christmas."

"Who?"

"A young lady named Angelique Burkhardt. She's from my squadron, and I've sort of been helping her out during training."

"No problem."

"You're helpin' Angie?" asked Hardy.

"Well...who else would I be helping...Tatiana?" retorted Nova. "I tried, after our first test was posted, but you know Tatiana...she knows everything."

"She thinks she does," added Hardy by way of clarification, "But, in actuality, she knows nothing!"

"You told me about her," said Wildstar. "Didn't she do well in combat?"

"She did, but if she don't straighten out and fly raight, she's gonna crash and burn in mah class. You got anyone laike that, Wildstar?"

"Hartcliffe," said Wildstar as he rolled up his eyes.

"Even ah've heard about him," said Hardy. "Isn't he datin'...or, rather...tryin' to...conquah...another student?"

Nova cleared her throat rather loudly at that one.

"He's datin', then, let's say" said Hardy, suitably corrected.

"Who?"

"Scuttlebutt has it Hartcliffe's been seen with someone we was just talkin' about, Wildstah."

"Angie?" said Wildstar. "That explains it. I just had to yell at Hartcliffe the other day for something really weird."

"What did you give it to him for," asked Hardy.

"Caught him doodling a picture of Angie in his notebook during a class and showing it off to another trainee."

"So?" said Nova. "I once noticed YOU doodling a picture of me on our way home from Iscandar, Derek..."

"It was during a break in the messhall on scrap paper, Nova...and NOT in a class, during a lecture." snapped Wildstar, embarrassed. He was blushing at the memory. "Also, I _believe_ I drew a dress and boots on you."

"It was a minidress," said Nova with a smile.

"It was more than this trainee drew on HIS girlfriend. His artwork was a nude of her."

"Oh?" said Nova with a raised eyebrow.

"A very raunchy nude..."

"How raunchy was it?" asked Hardy with a grin on his face while Nova rolled up her eyes.

"HARDY!" snapped Nova. "Sir...aren't you supposed to be setting an _example_?"

"Yes...Right," said Hardy. "Now..."

"Derek...look over there," whispered Nova as she pulled at her fiancée's sleeve. "Two tables over to the left..."

Everyone at the table went silent as Derek looked over, just in time to see...Bryan Hartcliffe...and Angelique Burkhardt...holding hands and staring at each other as if they were in a singles' club.

"Those two! We...we were reading their files the other day!" barked Wildstar.

"Wait a minute, weren't they...the ones...in the broom closet on Titan Base?" asked Hardy.

"Derek, what IS going on?" squeaked Nova.

"They were once caught fraternizing, Nova. I don't mind the concept of my trainees dating..." said Wildstar slowly.

"...But...not here in the open during training," said Hardy grimly. "Wildstah...if the Old Man catches them doin' that on duty hours...like durin' dinner..."

"I know," said Derek grimly.

"We need to talk to them," said Hardy.

"I can help with Burkhardt...I think," whispered Nova.

"How?" said Wildstar.

"Easy. Just tell them about the clubs you and I go to off-base...and advise her to make eyes at him THERE. And, err...to stay away from broom closets," she said with a blush. "How'd this happen?"

"Easy," said Hardy. "Nova, the English boy got your surfer babe friend good and drunk and he had his way with huh. Ah'll leave out all the gory details, Nova, outta respect for your ladyship."

"Thanks," grunted Nova.

"Nova...do you think you should...?" asked Derek.

"No. It'd only cause a scene. But...hmmm...if the Scuttlebutt gets around..."

"The Scuttlebutt Express probably already has them logged and noted, Nova," said Hardy with a shake of his head that caused his forelock to fly crazily around for a minute. "And we can't do a thing about THAT."

"Did you have your office talk with her yet?" asked Nova.

"You know darn well our class finished that today," said Hardy.

"If I can give you advice, Hardy...I'd talk with her tomorrow," suggested Nova.

"I will. You'll have the responsibility for huh, too," said Hardy pointedly.

"Sir?"

"Flight leaders are bein' posted tomorrow on the basis of grades," said Hardy. "And if you don't know by now that you'h helpin' me run this show, Nova, then maybe you ain't as _bright _as you look."

"But isn't it against regs for...?" began Nova.

"I didn't come right out and TELL yew the whole list, did ah?" grinned Hardy. "And, besides, it was my educated guess from day one you'd be a flight leaduh, Nova. You'h smart. Everyone knows that."

"But you still violated regs," said Wildstar.

"Regs," said Hardy with a laugh. "Nova, no offense, ah hope...but you know what they say about couples."

"What?" asked Nova.

"They say that if they hang around each other enough...they begin to take on each other's characteristics," grinned Hardy evilly. "Nova. I think you're startin' to become like Wildstah in some ways..."

"Now what in blazes do you mean by that, Hardy?" shot Wildstar.

"...And, I think in some ways...youah becoming like HER...although not in a bad way, mind yew."

"So…sir?" said Nova in a flat tone of voice.

"Well...yew two are gonna be married in about a month...so yew two can go home to the BOQ and figure that one out for yoahselves. Ah don't mess around with yoah personal lives. See you in class tomorrow mornin', Miss Forrester. PREFERABLY without circles under yoah eyes!"

At that, Hardy left, leaving Derek and Nova to stare at each other, mutter, and shake their heads.

* * *

**IX. DRAWING THE DUTY**

**Earth**

**Federal Megalopolis**

**Idlewild Space Naval Air Station**

**Officers' Club**

**November 29, 2201**

**1939 Hours-Eastern Standard Time**

* * *

"Lord Almighty, mah ahm..." groaned Jefferson Hardy while rubbing his elbow.

"Hey, Hardy, what happened to it?" demanded his drinking buddy, Ensign Paul Rosstowski. Rosstowski had, until recently, been an enlisted man on the _Argo. _He had served ever since the first mission to Iscandar as a member of the Combat Group. Later, he had received a battlefield promotion to Ensign during the Comet Empire crisis after Dash's second-in-command of the Artillery Section had been killed by an explosion fighting fires on the_ Argo _after she had been rammed by a cruiser during Saturn-Titan. As Rosstowski had been the ship's Chief Master-at-Arms, he had been the ideal candidate to fill that hold in the Combat Group's command structure. So, the young, hard-working, long-time enlisted man was now sitting in the Officers' Club for the first time, having been dragged here by his old comrade Dash.

"Nothing...just bumped mah funny bone in the booth."

"Looking at that blonde at ten o'clock? " grinned Rosstowski.

"Not at all, son."

"You must still be injured, sir," said Rosstowski, while tipping back a beer. His dark eyes glowered over the bottle for a moment at his old shipmate.

"Hey, what'cha mean, INJURED?" said Hardy.

Dash added, "The blonde at eight o' clock's got a shorter skirt on, THAT'S all!" he said with a laugh.

"That's better," said Paul in his Mid-Atlantic accent, which contrasted sharply with Hardy's Georgia accent. "I was getting worried about you for a minute, sir."

"Should you tell him, or me?" said Dash.

"Me. Son, you're breakin' protocol," said Hardy.

"What'cha mean?"

"It's against regs for you, boy, to call me SIR when we're drinking beer in the O Club. Got it?"

"Uhh--uhh..."

"Relax," said Dash. "We're all here to have some drinks and enjoy ourselves...that's all..."

"Okay," said Rosstowski, turning to greet someone else as they appeared in the booth. "Hey, whoa!" he said in his flat, prosaic manner. "It's Eager!"

Lieutenant Eager rolled up his eyes as he sat down.

"How come ya ain't in uniform, laike us?" asked Hardy inquisitively as he pointed out his Standard Duty Blues and Rosstowski's, although Hardy was wearing a black flight jacket over his blues.

"Wasn't on duty like you guys," said Eager.

"We weren't really on regular duty today, either," said Rosstowski. " He was out in a Tiger racking up some more hours, and I met him at the base after I put in a few hours flying a Medevac Boat around; that's all."

"Ah knew you could fly a boat, Rosstowski," said Eager. "But when'ja learn?"

"Well, remember how they needed utility boat pilots on the way to Iscandar after we suffered all those losses?" asked Rosstowski. "It was at that time that Hardy taught me how to fly a shuttlecraft, and later, I learned how to fly maintenance boats and Medevac Boats," said Rosstowski.

"What's this thing you fighter jocks got about "rackin' up hours?"," asked Eager.

"You idiot," grinned Rosstowski. "I'm not a fighter pilot. I'm a boat pilot, and that's icing on the cake to my job as a gunner," said the dark-haired young man earnestly. "You'd never get me in a fighter plane in a million smeggin' years."

"Why not, boy, yuh maight laike it," said Hardy.

"No...armor," said Rosstowski with emphasis. "I don't like flying around and engaging the enemy in a ship without armor. Haven't I told you that before?"

"Ah think you'h a party-pooper, son," said Hardy. "Too bad yuh never took me up on flying a Black Taiger foah keeps. You would've liked it!"

"Sir, as I told you years ago, I'll tell you now...NO WAY!" said Rosstowski earnestly.

"Well, fighter pilot or not," said Eager, "What's this here thing you guys got with rackin' up hours?"

"Let him explain it," said Dash as Eager looked at him. "Hardy's the fighter jock here."

"Eager, you must've deep-fried your brain after all those hours YUH spent behind that tactical radar on the _Argo_," said Hardy in amazement. "The reason pilots need to "rack up hours" is to keep up their edge and proficiency. Don't you know that, boy?"

"Ah mean...you guys make such a THING outta this. It's a religion to yew!" said Eager.

"Aren't you an Assistant Ship's Pilot, son?" asked Hardy. "You must've had to rack up hours flying the _Argo_."

"Mostly when you guys were sleepin'," joked Eager.

"Oh...THAT'S why I felt my bunk shaking on the way to Iscandar," said Rosstowski. "Not because YOU, Hardy, were hiding something in your compartment."

"If I was, you wouldn't have known 'bout it," said Hardy. "What'cha doin in civvies, seriously?" asked Hardy while glancing at Eager. "When did they let you out of the hospital?"

"The twenty-fifth," he said. "They were afraid that I had some internal damage they couldn't spot on a scan from one of the falls I took...so they wanted to be sure before they let me out again. Right now, I'm on TDY at Halesite Missile Battery," he said, referring to an outlying ground-to-air missile station on Long Island. "Just didn't have duty tonight, that's all."

"So you're out looking for some action," said Hardy with a leer and a wink.

"Not that kind. Got a girlfriend back home in the Lone Star State."

"What?" said Hardy. "Yew've got a girlfriend?"

"Darn straight," said Eager, ignoring Rosstowski's suddenly glum expression for the moment.

"Really?" said Hardy. "What's her name?"

"Lisa," said Eager. "Got a picture of her in my wallet. Have a look," he said, pulling out and tossing a small photo towards Hardy and Rosstowski.

"Well, least she's blonde," said Hardy. "Ah see she's got blue eyes. What's she look like...y'know…below the neck?"

"Tacky, tacky, tacky," chuckled Dash.

"No, I'm a Southern gentleman," said Hardy. "You're tacky."

"C'mon, guys, let Eager have the floor," said Rosstowski.

"Thanks, Paul. Well, she's short, cute, likes gingham dresses. Met her when I was a kid in Briggs, Texas, before the bombin's" said Eager.

"Still seeing the girl back home.." said Rosstowski. "WOW," he snorted sarcastically.

"What's goin' on?" said Eager, surprised that Hardy was silent. "I mean, what's your problem, Paul? You MARRIED the girl back home! I still have to get Lisa her ring. What's..."

Rosstowski said slowly, and with emphasis, as a contemporary version of an old song called _Seasons in the Sun_ came up on the jukebox. "The PROBLEM, Eager, is that for me, Clarissa Rosstowski is no LONGER the girl back home! Don't you know that? Didn't I tell you that on the mission, you chowderhead? We were having problems, she was talking divorce at the beginning of the year, and she went and FILED it in late January. She threw me out right before I was to leave to join the patrol cruiser _Kikori _in February. Threw me right out in the middle of the smeggin' night, too."

"Really?" asked Eager.

"Really," snapped Paul. "It was at 0110 in the morning on January 19, 2201, if you're wondering. I tried to go by your place, but you weren't there," he said, looking at Hardy, "and Dash wasn't around either, and Kato's wife told me he was off on the other side of the world training then. I asked her what I was gonna do, and, God bless her, she got on the phone to Nova Forrester. Then, I ended up spending the night in Nova's living room being counseled over hot cocoa until she pulled a few strings in the morning to get me assigned to new quarters the next day."

"Shoot, I never knew that!" said Eager. "Sorry to hear that, Rosstowski."

"That's all right. I haven't wanted to confide in a lot of people about this. You can see why," said Rosstowski as he put his head down, staring at the table. The fall of the shadows in the dim Officer's Club against his features and the new white junior officers' collar of his uniform made him look just as moody and melancholy as he actually was.

"You said the divorce went through fast," said Eager. "When did ya get the papers?"

"They handed them to 'im the morning after he moved into his new quarters," said Hardy. "It seems that his wife Clarissa found out where he was in one hell of a hurry. The scum lawyers gave him a WEEK to get a JAG officer and prepare his defense. The trial, if ya wanna call it that, was six days after that. His lawyer said his piece, she said hers. She refused to let him talk to her or her daughter. He just hadda talk to the lawyers. The case was cut and dried. They told him he'd receive their decision within five days."

"What kinda grounds did she sue on to get that kind of a hearing?" asked Eager.

"Actual abandonment and estrangement of affections," snapped Rosstowski. "Her lawyer made a case that my deciding to accept assignment to a space cruiser equaled an act of abandonment. We tried to argue otherwise, but they bought the "estrangement of affections angle"-not knowing that she was the one who was refusing to act as my wife any longer. That's what happened, and that's why my money's short, since that's where my credits are going."

"Well, you've got a daughter, and you've got a responsibility to her, son," said Hardy.

"That's not what's killing me. What IS killing me is the maintenance that Clarissa's getting. It's a tidy sum," said Rosstowski, tracing a pattern glumly in a puddle of beer. "I'm not sure she deserves it either, particularly because she's already remarried to someone else who's doing well in the money department."

"Who?" asked Eager.

"Some architect guy she dumped me for, as it turned out. His name's Dwayne. She's already bragging that he makes more than I do, and that she'll be really rich...particularly because she'll see to it she gets her kilo of flesh from me in the bargain irregardless of what I make."

"Shoot," said Hardy softly.

"Need me to loan ya more money to buy beer?" asked Eager.

"What I need is for you to get outta my face for a minute, Eager. GOT it?" snarled Rosstowski as he stood up.

"Hey...ah didn't mean..."

"Eager, just forget it," said Rosstowski harshly. "I'll be back by my beer in a few minutes. You don't need to buy me any."

"I didn't mean nothin'" said Eager.

"Hey, cool it," said Dash.

At that, Paul stalked off.

"Ah think ah got him mad," said Eager.

"Course ya did, space genius," said Hardy irritably. "Ain't ya ever gonna learn to keep your jaw zipped, son?"

"I didn't mean any harm...I was just..."

"You were just being yourself; dizzy," said Dash.

Hardy took a deep breath. "But it hurt anyway. Boy's got a tender hide right now; he goes out to help us, and keeps on getting kicked in the teeth when he comes back. Any wonder that he ain't bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?"

Rosstowski glumly wandered around the O-Club, A few minutes later, he encountered Wildstar and Nova. Wildstar was in his uniform and peacoat and Nova was in a pink pantsuit and pink boots for a night out. They were playing a game of Ping-Pong and having a lot of fun. Watching them in their happy mood only made him feel worse, and he decided to go home, without even saying goodbye to Eager, Dash. and Hardy. He was almost out of the Officers' Club, but, he changed his mind when he overheard yelling inside.

When he came back, Rosstowski noticed that Wildstar was having a heated argument with a somewhat sneery-looking young man in civvies; namely blue jeans, a Western-type shirt, and a black suede Stetson. Rosstowski thought the stranger looked and sounded like the typical heavy from an old Western-type holo-show.

"What was that you said?" Rosstowski heard Wildstar demanding.

"What ah said," said the young man in civvies, wasn't even directed at you, you idiot!"

"No, it was directed at my fiancé!" barked Wildstar.

"Oh, she's _yours?_" sneered the young man.

"That's right, I am," said Nova in a level voice as Rosstowski ran over to join a circle of people who were watching the mood turn ugly.

"Girl, you sure got one hell of a mouth on you!" sneered the stranger.

"Because I just asked you to get out of my way when you kept bumping into me?" asked Nova. "You're drunk!" she said, noticing his slurred belligerence. "And don't I know you from somewhere?" she asked.

"Yeah. I know both you and your boyfriend. Why doesn't he have ya on a smeggin' leash? Woof, WOOF! you're a bow-wow," he sneered. "A real dog, get it? Like all pushy womenfolk!"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" demanded Wildstar.

"Oh, yeah, I sure know you, you jerk," slurred the young man. "Even though ya evidently don't recognize me. Even though ya SHOULD!" laughed the somewhat stocky young fool, who, as Wildstar noticed, looked like he hadn't had a shave this morning.

"Who IS that?" whispered Rosstowski as Hardy elbowed his way up to him with a concerned look on his face.

"Him?" asked Hardy. "That boy's name is Randy Parmon. He's a brilliant engineer, but he's supposed to be trouble."

"Trouble?"

"He's never been charged with anything, but scuttlebutt says he has a bad rep with other officers; especially females. Good record, though, and he's supposed to be some kinda hero. Word is that he helped an officer named Captain Josiah drag a damaged patrol cruiser that had been spit out the White Comet back to Earth. Got a medal for it, too, just yesterday. He's supposed to be goin' places in the Fleet...the SOB."

Hardy heard Wildstar talking louder, and he heard Parmon shouting more insolent comments back at the hero of the Cometine conflict. Rosstowski began to think they might have to step in and help the shore patrol, especially when he saw Parmon actually beginning to take a lunge towards Wildstar, who was obviously expecting something (the young skipper, as usual, had his teeth gritted and was ready to rumble). Before any swings were exchanged, Nova stepped in and snapped, "That's ENOUGH! Derek, you're brave, but I don't want you and him going at it on MY account! And, Mister Parmon, be advised I can take care of myself!"

"Oh? You finally recognized me?"

"Yes, I did! Who else would've had the nerve to insult Derek and I the night we came home from Iscandar?"

"Ah didn't insult you, Forrester!"

"Most people would think that your calling me a '_brainless blonde bimbo_' was an insult. Did you ever realize what kind of nerve it took to say that at that party? And do you have any idea what sort of nerve you have NOW?"

"Whatcha mean, babe?" he sneered. "I was just out shelabratin!"

Nova replied in a low voice, with emphasis, "If you EVER put one of those greasy paws of yours on me again, I might just perform a medical procedure on you without any anesthetic."

"Whatcha mean?" he half-sneered, half-asked, surprised that Nova had the chutzpah to stand up for herself.

"I won't tell you," replied Nova quietly. "But let's just say it would probably interfere with your ability to procreate, okay? Derek, let's get out of here and leave the kennel to Muttley? He's dead drunk, so let the shore patrol take care of him, okay? C'mon..." she said as she dragged him off by the hand...before anything else could happen.

In their aircar, while pulling out, Derek said, "Nova, even though you stopped me from giving that jerk a piece of my mind, I'm proud of you. Thanks for having a clear head back there. I'm pleasantly surprised about how you can tell them off yourself, Nova," he said with a smile as they drove on.

"Why," she asked. "I've done that sort of thing before. Sergeant Knox gave me a lot of practice, and I also had to deal with others like him and Parmon while you were with the Third Squadron earlier this year."

"Nova?"

"Yes?"

"Would YOU ever interfere with my ability to procreate?"

"Heck, no. I WANT you in working order. You know I want children someday," she replied with a wink.

"That's sweet of you," he replied as he put a hand on Nova's shoulder. He stopped at a light, and he noticed that there were no cars around, so playfully began to stroke her collarbone, and he slowly let his hand go down a little lower.

Nova rolled up her eyes a little and responded by playfully giving him a love tap.

"Hey!" he cried as the light turned green. "I thought you said..."

"Not HERE!" Nova giggled. "The light's green, and it's not the right place, or the right time. Drive on, please!"

Derek did so, looking noticeably downcast. Nova noticed, and gave him a little pat on the cheek at the next red light. as she snapped on the car radio as Derek tries to soothe his bruised ego...and a Christmas tune came on; a contemporary version of _Silver Bells._

At the line, _"...soon it will be Christmas day,_" Nova turned visibly dreamy and romantic, murmuring the line again in Derek's ear while leaning against him, to his surprise.

"Nova...I thought you said..."

"Derek...you know I love you...but you know I don't like the idea of...messing around in a car...or...you know...of acting married before we ARE married. But..."

"I know, Nova," sighed Derek. "I'm sorry. But you know the wait is killing me..."

"Don't you think it's not killing me, either?" whispered Nova. "There's been times that I've wanted you so badly I can taste it...especially in the last few weeks...and sometimes in the worst places. But, at least..."

"Christmas will come soon," said Wildstar. "And...on the day after...I get YOU."

"And I can't wait," said Nova softly. At that, she kissed him. He returned the smooch and then they drove off, heading towards the BOQ complex.

* * *

**X. COMETINE INTENTIONS**

**Garalenda System**

**The Edge of the Milky Way**

**November 29, 2201**

**2000 Hours-Eastern Standard Time**

The base planet of Garalenda loomed up in the bridge windows of Desslok's carrier as it began its final approach towards the planet. After the Gamilon Fleet had launched its planes three days beforehand, there had been all of two engagements. After the first engagement, in which several of the Cometines had been surprised by Gamilon planes plunging down on top of them from an unexpected direction, thanks to the SMITE equipment recently installed in one of the Fleet's battlecarriers, the enemy planes had, rather unexpectedly, broken off the engagement. The second engagement, as Desslok had remembered, had been with not only a few planes but also with a single Cometine destroyer, also in the same two-tone grey colors as the planes. The escort destroyer had been wiped out, but Desslok was aware of the fact that his forces had retrieved some debris that would be analyzed at the base.

Now, as the rest of the Fleet began to head down towards the base, Desslok stood in silence, wondering what would happen next.

"Talan?" asked Desslok.

"Yessir?"

"Our enemies. Are they affiliated or allied with Zordar's House? Are they attacking us out of sheer revenge and malice, or do they have another plan in mind? What do you think?"

"Well, their attacks seem to be almost random, Leader Desslok," said Talan. "They come almost from out of nowhere, and then they strike, cause some damage, and break off the attack, or allow themselves to be destroyed."

"They...allow themselves to be destroyed?" asked Desslok.

"Yes. General Krannen observed that yesterday, during the second attack. He said that two of the planes that we hit weren't fatally damaged. One of them deliberately rammed a destroyer."

"Deliberately?" asked Desslok.

"Yes. It flew right at the ship's bridge."

"Behavior of that type is consistent with only one thing. Fanaticism...or desperation," said Desslok. "You'll recall that, occasionally, members of our forces have allowed themselves to be killed deliberately as a means of expiating the debt of loyalty they owe me. They'll literally fight to their last breaths for my sake. We've seen loyalty of that type in our forces, and among the Terrans, but it is most unusual in Cometines. Except, that is, for one House of the Empire that Zordar spoke of, although it is not quite a legitimate House recognized by the High Emperor in the Andromeda Center of the Comet Empire. That may have changed, because it was said to be one of the newer Houses of the Empire."

"Who is this House?" asked Talan. "Could it be...?"

"Again, we must not jump to conclusions," said Desslok. "We must ascertain their identity first. If they are whom I suspect them to be, we must ascertain their intentions, and act. If this is the House that I believe it is, if it is now a House, we must rebuild and act as quickly as possible. Otherwise, much that we hold dear could be endangered, especially if these are, indeed, the followers of the madman known as Gernitz. Gernitz, Talan. The man whom Zordar cast out when we arrived because it was said he would stop at nothing to gain the secrets of Earth...including capturing me while I was recovering."

"It was because they learned you knew its location," mused Talan. "Hence, he felt you could lead them to its secrets... But, what were the secrets he desired?"

"The same secret that interested Zordar in a tangential sense," said Desslok. "Gernitz wished to gain the knowledge of how Earth rebuilt its ecosystem over one year...that is, the Cosmo-DNA, even though they never knew it as such," said Desslok. "Gernitz desired to gain this secret...and learn of the planet of its origin, for his own warped ends."

"Perverting Iscandar's Terraforming science into a weapon?" asked Talan.

"Yes...the same. It was said that his intent was to find the homeworld of the race that designed this technology and force them to give up all of the engineering secrets...and then to destroy that world so that no one save Gernitz would have the secrets of the device's design."

"How many forces did Gernitz have?"

"It is said that he had gained control of a Space Fortress Group that Zordar had in reserve," said Desslok. "As you know, within the Gatlantis Empire-city ship, there was a huge space battleship. Zordar had a similar battleship in reserve, which Gernitz gained by stealth at the time Zordar cast him out. It was then thought that Gernitz formed his own rebel House which would have eventually acted against Zordar, although Zordar didn't think much of the potential threat. At any rate, Gernitz will never learn either the locations of Earth...or Iscandar...from us," said Desslok grimly. "If Gernitz the Mad IS our current enemy, it would explain much..."

* * *

**END OF ACT THREE.**


	4. Tomorrow Never Knows Act Four Conclusion

TOMORROW NEVER KNOWS

ACT FOUR-THE CRUCIBLE

* * *

I. BRYAN HARTCLIFFE ON THE EDGE

**Earth-Idlewild Space Naval Air Station**

**Tuesday, December 1, 2201**

**0610 Hours-Spacetime**

* * *

"Well, it's the start of another training day...for me at least," chuckled Derek Wildstar as he walked towards a hangar carrying a flight bag, with Nova following nearby. They had changed their routine a little this morning and had met for breakfast after PT and the requisite change from the sweats they wore while working out with their squadrons to their uniforms.

"I'm looking forward to today, Derek. You know why, don't you?"

"Let me guess," he said. "First time behind the controls of a Tiger?"

Nova nodded once, with only her smile betraying her enthusiasm about the flight. "And, because my test scores allowed me to qualify as Flight Leader of Alpha Flight, I'll be the first one up with Hardy today."

"Congratulations," he said as he gave her an appreciative glance.

"Who are you taking up first, today, Derek? Miss Hartmann?" she asked, referring to the beautiful light-blond haired hotshot that she had met on the weekend and begun to strike up a friendship with.

"No," said Wildstar. "It's Hartcliffe."

"Him?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah. He was number one in the class, as it turned out. I had to give him the post."

"What's he really like, Derek?"

"Nova...I'm not sure you want to know. I'm..."

Then, as they were approaching a Super Starfighter that was being prepped by a ground crew, Wildstar and Nova turned their heads when they heard some loud and somewhat raucous laughter.

"HEY!" they both heard a person with a very nasal and prominent Angilan accent call out. "Don't you groundbirds mess me plane up, now...or you're gonna have royal 'ell to pay!"

"Oh, stop it!" they heard an equally loud California-accented female voice respond.

Wildstar and Nova turned around to see Bryan Hartcliffe and Angelique Burkhardt coming up with their flight bags. "Mornin', sir," said Hartcliffe as he stopped to salute Wildstar and Nova. Angie followed suit.

"Hartcliffe, before we begin our pre-flight, I'd like to ask you something," said Wildstar.

"And that is, sir?"

"Have you been carrying on with Miss Burkhardt during duty hours?" he demanded.

"Oh, c'mon, sir," he said. "Duty begins when I report, and aren't you a little like the pot callin' the kettle black, now?" he asked, turning around with Angie to look at the sunrise.

"And what do you mean by that?" asked Wildstar behind everyone as the cold breeze blew through his hair for a moment.

"Well, here we are, we're due to like, pre-flight at 0630 and take off at 0700, and you've shown up, with all respect, sir, with your significant other, with whom, I believe, you don't mess aroun' with on duty. If I'm 'ere with mine, and you're 'ere with yers, that must mean we're off duty, right?"

"It does," said Wildstar. "But, I'd advise some caution, Mister Hartcliffe."

"Why?" he asked.

"The base has begun to talk!" chimed in Nova. "Really! It has! You should hear some of the stories! You have a terrible reputation, Bryan Hartcliffe! I ought to give a piece of my..."

"Nova, easy," said Derek in a low voice while putting his hand on her shoulder. "Let me do the talking. This isn't the _Argo._"

Nova nodded, backing off.

"Okay," said Angie. "What is it you two want to say?"

Wildstar cleared his throat. "What I'd like to ask is a little more discretion. I'm not going to interfere with your private life...especially because I'm aware I wouldn't like MY private life interfered with. What I'd like to remind you is that, once we're ready to fly, you will have say your farewells for the morning to Miss Burkhardt. Then, you will concentrate on the task at hand, so you can learn how to fly that fighter safely, just as I will have said my farewells for the morning to Miss Forrester so that I can concentrate on teaching you, and so that she can concentrate on her lessons today in her squadron, just as I'll expect you to leave Miss Burkhardt to her lessons. Do I make myself clear, Mister Hartcliffe?"

"Aye, aye, sir," he said respectfully.

"All right. You'll meet me on that tarmac in..." Wildstar paused to check his watch "...eighteen minutes, ready for your pre-flight checkout, and concentrating fully on the task at hand. I don't care what you do with those eighteen minutes as long as you're ready to check that fighter out and fly, Mister."

"Yessir!"

Hartcliffe saluted and walked away, followed by Angie.

"My hangar's that way, Derek," said Nova. "Want some juice or something before we get going?"

"No...uhhmm...make that yes, if you can do me a favor?"

"Which is?"

"Keep an eye peeled for what those two are up to? With his record..."

"He could get into a lot of trouble in eighteen minutes," said Nova. "I know. Hardy told me. I'll see you in a minute with that juice and a report."Five minutes later, while Wildstar was looking over his flight plan, Nova came back with a cup of juice. "Nothing to report," she said, "except a muttered comment or two."

"Did they see you?"

"No," said Nova. "I moved quickly."

"Okay," he said. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," said Nova softly.

"And good luck to you, too," he said tenderly, looking into her eyes. "Get yourself back on the ground in one piece."

"The same goes for you, too, sir," said Nova softly. She looked around, saw no one, and gave her fiancée a quick hug. He rapidly returned it and said, "Have a good flight."

"Professionalism and spirit, sir," smiled back Nova, repeating an old EDF motivational slogan. "I'll try to see you at lunch if I can."

"Right," he said... nodding and smiling shyly as Nova picked up her bag and walked off.

Hope the flight crew didn't see that, thought Wildstar as he walked up towards the Super Starfighter that Hartcliffe would be flying that day. He hoped he wasn't blushing as he looked professional and took the plane's maintenance log from a Corporal, checking over all the items quickly as he gave the plane a walk-around. A walk-around was a visual inspection of the plane and its parts. Hartcliffe, as pilot, was supposed to do that, but Wildstar found it to be a good idea to second-guess his students, just in case.

Also, to keep his head up, thought Wildstar, he picked up a small piece of cotton waste lying on the ground and left it dangling inconspicuously from the Super Starfighter's port side forward intake. _I'll leave this "gift". Just SOP,_ he grinned slightly. _Commodore Hoshiyama used to leave me "gifts" like this all the time. I'm sure Nova'll find a few dangling from her Tiger, too, if I know Hardy,_ he thought.

Finally, after completed his walkaround, Wildstar stood waiting for Hartcliffe, who came back around a moment later, jiggling his helmet and muttering, "Shaggin', luv!" under his breath.

"Hartcliffe, what's the big idea," asked Wildstar.

"Sir?"

"You're supposed to have the flight CO pad OUT and ready, and you're supposed to put your helmet up in that front seat first thing! Go back and do that again!"

"Yessir," said Hartcliffe. A moment later, he came back and followed the procedure properly, saluting and coming to attention with his flight pad open.

"Good," said Wildstar, as, off in the distance, he thought he heard Hardy screaming at someone. The identity was confirmed when he dimly heard Nova crying out, "Aye, aye, SIR! I won't do THAT again!"

"Well," barked Wildstar. "Start at the nose and start the checkout."

The checkout went well. Hartcliffe spotted the junk, and duly logged it. The checkout of their flight plan was also quite normal, and everything was going according to plan. Finally, Wildstar and Hartcliffe boarded the plane while the ground crew members completed their procedures.

Hartcliffe got the Super Starfighter started flawlessly, and he soon had his faceplate down as the cockpit sealed.

Hartcliffe responded "Affirmative." to the ground controller's grant of permission to taxi as the Astrofighter's wheels were unchocked and the plane began to roll forward, its burnt orange and gold skin gleaming in the bright morning sun.

"Not bad, so far, Hartcliffe," said Wildstar over the radio from the back seat of the plane. "Remember, she's a thrust-heavy plane, so keep that power throttled down until we need it."

"Right," said Hartcliffe urgently as the plane turned a corner onto the taxiway. The suppressed but powerful roar of the single fusion engine resounded through the astrofighter as it approached the runway, pausing at a traffic control light as a lone Cosmo Tiger roared off into the sky. Wildstar could tell from the plane's colors and configuration that it wasn't Nova's ship; the plane that had taken off was a Cosmo Tiger II, Type 1 single-seater, in the light blue and gold paint scheme that was the standard make-up job for all planes assigned to other ships. Wildstar had heard that the new space battleship _Andromeda _was close to completion, and that she would be carrying a full complement of fighters when she went on station due to the relative lack of carriers in the Fleet (even the two that had survived would need a substantial amount of dockyard work before being spaceworthy again) he guessed that the plane that had just taken off was probably bound for the _Andromeda_ and was just being flight-tested now.

Finally, a voice came in their headsets. "Super Star One-Zero-One, you are cleared for takeoff on Runway One-Three."

"Roger that," said Hartcliffe as he swung onto the runway. Soon, under his guidance, the plane began to accelerate, and he and Wildstar were pushed back into their seats as the fighter roared down the runway.

A moment later, the concrete disappeared under them as the plane became airborne. Hartcliffe kept his climb angle strictly by the book as the plane ascended rapidly towards its cruising altitude.

"Good job," said Wildstar, who was expecting games from this pilot. "Now, let's see you execute some turns."

Hartcliffe began to go through the book; bank to port, bank to starboard. He repeated the procedure again, and then returned quietly to level flight. "Tanks are nominal; we're doin' great, sir. Airspeed and ground speed are within our limits, altitude is normal cruise. Do you want the nominal atmospheric ceiling, or are we taking 'er up to play around in orbit, sir?"

"We're staying in the atmosphere today, Hartcliffe. We'll go into space when you show me you have all the rudiments of atmospheric flight in this bird down first. Because of her small wing surfaces, the Super Starfighter is much harder to control in an atmosphere than in space. However, there's no guarantee you'll ever fight all your battles in space. I fought one of my first battles in this type of astrofighter in the high-pressure environment of Jupiter's upper atmosphere at the Gamilons' Floating Continent. You might have to fly this sort of plane in a gas giant someday, too, Mister. Now, drop to eight thousand meters and show me what you've learned in the simulator yesterday about aerobatics."

"Yessir."

Hartcliffe promptly performed a number of barrel rolls and other such maneuvers, all competently, all with a remarkable amount of control. There was nothing sloppy about the way this Brit flew.

Wildstar knew that he was dealing with someone who had a fair idea of how to control something as difficult to fly as a Super Starfighter, and he had to grant Hartcliffe this much; he was a quick learner, regardless of his demonstrated sordid morals and warped mind.

"How're we doin," he asked.

"Fair," said Wildstar. "But don't get cocky and think you know everything yet, Mister. You've done all right with a lot of space between us and the ground. Now, take us down to the deck."

With a smile, Hartcliffe peered through his John Lennon-style spectacles and began to drop the Super Star down towards the ground in a fairly controlled dive. Wildstar made notes on his pad, thinking that maybe this would be an unexpectedly smooth flight after all.

They descended down towards the ocean and the base. Hartcliffe flew well with little clearance, making turns and keeping under control in spite of the cold morning sea breeze from the east and the fact that they weren't all that far from the wave tops.

Finally, Wildstar made a few more notes and said, "For your first flight, on your first day, that wasn't bad, Mister Hartcliffe. Okay...take us back to base."

"Yessir," said Hartcliffe as he requested an approach vector. he received it and was told, "You're authorized to come in on this vector in three minutes. Until then, orbit the base under your instructor's guidance at a low altitude."

"Acknowledged," said Hartcliffe as they swept around the base, looking down at the hangars, taxiways, and maintenance areas they had all seen this morning.

As they swung towards a parking lot, Hartcliffe noticed something and had a sudden idea. "Sir!" he asked.

"Yes," said Wildstar.

"May I deviate a little from our course. I'd like to...just get a look at something in that parking lot."

"_What is it_?" asked Wildstar in a humorless tone.

"You'll see, sir," said Hartcliffe as the plane's nose dipped a little under his guidance. Then, the plane began to speed up.

"Hartcliffe, NO. Return back to our orbiting vector," said Wildstar.

"This'll take us all of thirty seconds, sir..."

"We don't have that much time, and it's a matter of _discipline._ Hartcliffe, get us back on course..."

"In a second, sir..." said Hartcliffe as the plane sped up a little more.

"Hartcliffe...no. Get your nose UP," barked Wildstar as, too late, he saw what Hartcliffe was planning to do, and, guessing he had no other choice, he began to manipulate his controls to regain control of the ship.

But, even as Wildstar flicked the switches to take the throttle, the plane roared down towards the lot.

"Here's your daily personnel reports from Headquarters, sir," said a pleasant young female Ensign in her typical short-skirted Admin uniform.

"Thank you," said Captain Priceman in a pleasant tone as he took the reports from the young lady who waited near the Staff car that had brought her in from Headquarters.

"Would you sign here, please, sir? Hey, what's that plane doing," she asked curiously.

"...What...?" asked Priceman as he looked up. "That isn't the proper ceiling for parking lots... is it?"

A second later, the Super Starfighter buzzed the lot, with a loud roar, and an intimidating whistle of wind that blew Priceman's report all over the place. It also made the young Admin Ensign fall back towards the Captain screaming with terror.

"Who is that...that MANIAC?" yelled Priceman as he helped the trembling young lady back to her feet.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha HOOO," whooped Hartcliffe. "Man! Nicest bleedin' legs ah've laid eyes on in weeks! Can we do that again...I...hey...where's me stick?" he asked, moving the control stick without a response.

"I'm flying this plane now, MISTER," barked Wildstar as he forced the ship back up onto its proper vector. "And YOU'RE gonna have a lot of explaining to do when we land, Hartcliffe. Thanks to you, we're BOTH in hot water, now!"

"Why? They'll just yell at me, right, sir?"

"And ME for letting you DO it! If I had gotten those controls back a second earlier, you stupid IDIOT, we wouldn't have gotten into this mess you've put us in!"

"Super Star One-Zero-One, are you reading us?" said a voice over the radio.

"Super Star One-Zero-One, over and reading you," snapped Wildstar. "Instructor performed regained control of ship after unauthorized maneuver, over."

"I'm to understand that maneuver was unauthorized?"

"Over, you read me right," said Wildstar. "I never granted student clearance for maneuver, over."

"Damn good, because otherwise, you would've been down there _with _him cleaning up my reports, Mister Wildstar!" snapped a cold voice over the radio.

"Sir," said Wildstar, who recognized Priceman's voice at once. "It was _my_ error. I didn't regain control quickly enough, sir."

"I'm going to have a good listen to your voice recorder when we land and see if it tells me the same thing as these tapes we have here," said Priceman irritably. "Get your tail on the ground now, Wildstar; I'm vectoring you in myself... and bring your sorry excuse for a student in with you. Got that?"

"Yessir," said Wildstar grimly as he pulled up onto Priceman's approach vector a moment later as he gave it in clipped fashion, over the headset.

Wildstar felt even more chagrined, as, in the distance, he saw a burnt-orange Type 2A Cosmo Tiger orbiting around the base, and probably coming in right after him. _Hardy and Nova_, he thought grimly. _Please God, I hope Hardy had the decency NOT to switch frequencies and let her hear THIS one. If not, I'll NEVER hear the end of this story!_

"Raight, Jake," chuckled Hardy over the ship-to-ship interlink to another instructor in another plane. "The instructor of that squadron was the one that allowed that boner! Raight over Iceman, too! Ha, haaa...what a riot! And ah caught it on my recon camera, too. Up nine meters! WHOA! Ah ain't lettin' mah student see that one, either!"

"Hardy?" asked Nova respectfully over her headset. "Why did you take control of my recon camera? I didn't do anything wrong, did I?"

"Nope, Miss Nova, yoah just fine!" said Hardy as he tried to regain his composure. "Just keep on that vector, keep flyin' nice and straight, and maybe ah'll forget you didn't spot that junk in the intake on the walkaround today, all raight? Just keep her flying, nice and level, Nova...and let me keep control on the downlink! I've got a...special download to take care of, that's all. Just ignore me, ah'm just the instructor."

"Are you all right? You were laughing pretty hard a minute ago, sir. I heard you even WITH the intercom off."

"No, ah'm fine, just faine," grinned Hardy as he ran the close-up of Wildstar and Hartcliffe's mishap again. "Just don't worry. Over and out, Nova. Just listen to the tower. "

"Huh?" she said innocently.

"Consider it an advance solo since you was such a good student today, Miss Forrester," chuckled Hardy, who emphatically turned off the intercom, as he switched back to Jake. "Lookit this, boy!" he chuckled. "That's great, Hardy," chuckled Jacob Strawfield, a smart young Afro-American pilot, and instructor in charge of the Red Rippers, who had been a friend of Hardy's ever since their cadet days. "Look, Johnson. Look at some of the stuff you can do with a recon camera!" he chortled. "Who was the pilot nutty enough to do this?"

"Bryan Hartcliffe," chuckled Hardy. "He's one CRAZY dude, if what ah heah about him is true!" said Hardy.

"Who was the instructor? And is he gonna escape with his career intact?"

"Wildstar," chuckled Hardy.

"WILDSTAR?" he said. "Are you SERIOUS, 'bro?"

"I am. All Iceman's gonna do is yell at him, though. The BEST part's gonna be for Hartcliffe, wooooEEEE! If he survives trainin' ah think ah want to fly with the boy someday!"

"You would, Hardy," said Strawman jovially. "What's your pilot think of this?"

"Nuthin," whispered Hardy. "And she can't think nothin', either. We gotta keep her in the DARK."

"Why?"

"She's Wildstar's fiancé, that's why!" whooped Hardy.

"Oh, shoot, we gotta do the mushroom treatment on that broad."

"Mushroom treatment?" asked Hardy.

"Yeah. We gotta keep her in the dark and feed her crap!"

Hardy whooped it up even louder; so loudly that Nova turned her head and asked, "Sir, ARE you all right?"

"Just fine, Miss Nova," laughed Hardy.

"Tiger One-Zero-One, over...are you awake up there?" asked the controller.

"Yes...I am," said Nova.

"Well, trainee, we've been telling your instructor to order you in for the last minute! Is _he_ awake?"

"Yessir, he is...We...were just discussing my flight, that's all," said Nova.

"Well, since I see you have some mission recon experience, maybe you can try vectoring her in on this course. Head to Mark..."In Priceman's office, Hartcliffe and Wildstar stood before the desk as Priceman coldly said, "Lieutenant Hartcliffe, do you realize how important air safety IS?"

"Yessir, ah do," he said in a chagrined voice, having heard a non-stop gripe-out from Wildstar ever since their wheels touched the ground.

"And, Wildstar, I see your report," said Priceman. "This is fine; insofar as you attempted to keep your student from performing the maneuver. But, hell is filled with attempts and good intentions, Commander. Even the best of us can slip up. Once. I'll grant you once, in the serious proscriptions of SOP rules. Even the best instructor can have an idiot in the front seat, as you evidently did, Commander. But I don't want to see you do this again, Wildstar, and especially not to me. I'd rather see you punch out the sorry fool right in the cockpit like he went crazy and bring him in unconscious than to do that. And if he tries something like that after he solos, in formation, you have my permission to take any step, including shooting him down like a rabid weasel, got that?"

"Yessir," said Wildstar.

"Oh. Your punishment's inadequate," said Priceman as he balled up Wildstar's incident chit and threw it in the circular file. "Don't ground him for one training day. Ground him for _two_, understood?"

"Yessir."

"Now, YOU," he said to Hartcliffe. "You get out there and do grounds maintenance with a bag around that lot until you find me EVERY single piece of my report! And if some of them are torn up, tough! Use adhesive tape to get them back together and in a readable form, son! DO I make myself clear?"

"Aye, aye, sir," said Hartcliffe, who was almost in tears.

"And when you begin flying again, on Friday, YOU will be Wildstar's sole student. You will then repeat the flight for ATD-1, and then take the flights for ATD's 2, 3, and 4 all in succession after Wildstar puts everyone else through an early flight for ATD-4. You will then debrief and you and Wildstar will have grades and a report on my desk by 2000 hours that evening! If you have a social life planned for that night, son, tough cookies. Same goes for your instructor."

And, if I see you here before me for ANY reason, I won't be as nice to you as I was today. All right?" said Priceman in a nice, level tone of voice.

"Yessir," said Hartcliffe in an almost inaudible tone.

"I'll take that as a "yessir", even though you sounded like you were two years old," said Priceman. "Wildstar, get him out of here. And better luck on your other eleven flights, all right?"

"Yessir," said Wildstar in a quiet voice.

Both of them saluted and left.

Wildstar stopped Hartcliffe in the corridor as he began to walk off with his head down and shoulders sagging.

"Hartcliffe," snapped Wildstar.

"Yessir?" he asked.

"You realized you could have avoided all of this if you had just found another way to play a joke on someone?"

"Sir?"

"There are the sorts of practical jokes that one can get away with, and the sort that one can't get away with under any circumstances. Today, you just learned, as if you didn't learn in combat, that flying isn't a funny business. I've been doing this for longer than you, Mister, and I've seen others learn the same lesson, but with an even harsher grade and result. Do you know how some pilots have left this base after their jokes messed up? Do you," asked Wildstar.

Hartcliffe remained silent as Derek continued with his tirade. "For your information, some pilots have left this airbase, and others throughout this planet and throughout history, being carried out by six guys in a box because either God, or the laws of physics, take your pick, didn't think their jokes were very funny and made them pay for it. Your number didn't come up today, Hartcliffe, so as a result, you're not a piece of burned meat lying up in a tree near that parking lot, and, fortunately, neither am I. Luckily, the woman who is going to be my wife in twenty-five days isn't sitting around somewhere crying her eyes out because I'll never come back, and, luckily for you, your girlfriend isn't doing the same thing, Mister. And would you like to know why I didn't punch you out cold when we landed?"

"No?"

"It's because despite the fact that ATD-1 was wiped out, you would've scored a first day rating in the high nineties, Mister!" said Wildstar. "...IF you hadn't messed up. Now, I want you to get out there and clean up that mess you made. And remember this."

"Yes?"

"If you pull something like that again, Mister, I WILL punch your lights out before I turn you over to Priceman. Consider the punch you didn't earn today a suspended sentence, Bryan Hartcliffe! And, be careful...I'll be watching your every move!"

* * *

II. SETTING UP HOUSEKEEPINGEarthFederal MegalopolisSands Point Cove72 Cove Neck RoadWednesday, December 2, 22011700 Hours-Spacetime

* * *

The red Cosmo-Mustang staff aircar wound up the road through the hills near the shoreline on the outskirts of the Federal Megalopolis until it stopped at a set of gateposts that would hold a pair of gates, which seemed to still be under construction. The wall that the gate pierced was a modernistic concrete wall whose bareness was hidden by a breed of crawling ivy that was already growing on the wall and thriving.

"Are you sure this is the place, Derek?" asked Nova as she looked quizzically at her fiancée.

"This is 72 Cove Neck Road. That's what it says on the deed and papers," said Wildstar. "Maybe we should just drive in."

"But where's the house?" asked Nova softly.

Derek shrugged, and drove in, following the driveway up to a green hill, and then following it around.

His eyes began to go wide as he turned towards the south, and Nova began to smile. There, at a location that showed a beautiful shoreline of the local sound, stood what was obviously a house under construction; as the driveway curved one last time towards the garage, it turned abruptly to dirt.

The house was covered in something made to look like old-style wood siding (even though both of them guessed that it wasn't actual wood), and was a pleasing light tan color, with a dark red roof and white-painted window frames and doors.

"Well, what do you think?" asked Wildstar as he got out, carrying the packet in his hand.

"It's...beautiful!" said Nova in awe. "Do you think we can look inside?"

"I don't know if the inside's finished yet, Nova," said Derek as he and Nova began to approach the outdoor staircase that led towards the door, which was on the side of the house. It would give a wonderful view of the rolling hill that led down towards the shoreline to the west.

"HEY!" yelled a cross-looking man in work clothes with a hardhat and clipboard as he abruptly burst out of the house. "What in blazes ya doin' here? This here's private property, youse guys!"

Boy, he sounds like Sergeant Knox, thought Wildstar as he looked irritably at the workman. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Derek Wildstar, and the young lady here is my fiancé, Lieutenant Nova Forrester. For your information, sir, we own this property as a grant from the Federal Government of Earth, and you're standing in the front door of our house."

"Well, why didn't cha say so?" he chuckled. "Nah, you don't needs to show me your deed. I recognize that packet."

"What do you mean?" asked Nova.

"I was working' on your buddy's house, guy named Sandor. You know, the other project, off over there by Heroes' Hill?"

"Sandor's all right?" asked Nova.

"Uh-huh. He was just by his house, lookin' at it same as youse guys. Sorry I didn't recognize ya."

"Is it safe to go inside," asked Nova.

"Yeah, sure, if ya like bare walls and exposed plumbin', that is. We just finished all the interior work today and hooked ya up to the worldwide power transmission grid." The man abruptly shut the door behind him. "It's locked. If ya got yer cardkey, let's just see if it works, first," he said cheerfully.

Wildstar hunted around in the portfolio for the cardkey to his house. Finally, he found it, and handed it to Nova. "You do the honors, Mrs. Wildstar."

"But I'm not that, yet."

"You soon will be," he said patting her on the arm as the workman puffed irritably on his cigar and thought, _Lovebirds...yeeccch, mush!_

Nova shut her eyes and put the cardkey in the lock for the first time. The unit read the code, and quietly buzzed, unlocking the door.

Then, Derek pushed the door open, and both of them stepped in after Derek took back the key and put it away.

They walked through a empty, high foyer with unfinished walls and walked into a living room that looked very, very bare, with metal studs still showing in the walls and exposed wires dangling from the ceiling two floors above them, because the living room was vaulted, like the foyer. A messy pile of stone and brick lay in one corner of the room, complete with bags of cement.

"That's going to be the fireplace, isn't it?" asked Nova.

"Yep, dat's what it looks like," said the workman.

"That'll be nice," said Wildstar.

"Now it's a mess," laughed the foreman. "Lemme show ya the kitchen, or what's gonna be the kitchen..."

They walked around until they entered a space with a bay window at their backs, and the framework of a counter in the middle of the room in front of them. "That's your table space, and along dese walls, where we have dese lovely pipes now, will be your food processor, sink, cabinets, et cetera. Up there's a stairway that leads to bedrooms number 3 and 2 in the upstairs a' the house; and, ya've got that deck right here," he said, walking them through to the living room and its conversation pit.

He shook his head and continued. "Back this way, by the bay windows, is the door out to the deck," he said, walking them outside again. "You've got a stairway, going down to what'll be bushes, and dat dere hole in da ground by those bushes the gardener left is gonna be your swimmin' pool, off in the trees," he said. "That little shack there is gonna be your cabana, and we're even putting in a bar for pool parties."

"Back inside," he said as Nova stood there with wide eyes, having to be walked along by Derek, "and I'll show ya the second floor a' this joint," he chuckled.

After peeking in the second bedroom at what would be a bathroom (while Nova whispered to Derek that maybe someday that would be their daughter's room), the contractor took them back to the foyer and let them go back downstairs, down a staircase that curved a bit as it went up.

Nova wanted to go upstairs to look at something, so they went up again. Upstairs, in a huge lounge that seemed to take up most of the second floor, they had a view down into the living room. A high wall and railing, covered incongruously with ornamental plants someone had already put there in the otherwise unfinished room, allowed one to peek back down into the living room, but didn't allow those downstairs to look up.

Derek asked, "And, what's this space below us?"

"Master bedroom," said the contractor with a chuckle. He took them downstairs and showed them what would be their bedroom. "That pile of rocks is gonna be your second fireplace, and I already stuck a twelve-point buck head above it for ya, see?" he said. Turning to Nova, he whispered, "Youse can tell all your girlfriends HE got it. No one'll ever know."

"That's...nice," said Nova. "But, maybe it'd be better downstairs?" she suggested. "Neither of us are really big on hunting. Can you get me some hanging plants to put up there when we move in, Derek?" she asked.

"Sure. Uhh...if you don't mind...I've got to talk to you for a minute...alone..."

"I'll leave yas alone...sure," chuckled the contractor. "Meet me outside, okay?"

At that, he left.

"Yes, Derek?" asked Nova as he looked around and led her to the only place they could sit down; namely, an unfinished, but cushioned window seat by the row of bedroom windows.

"Nova, I've got some bad news about what happened yesterday at the base."

"What, Derek?" asked Nova with concern.

"That scrape Hartcliffe got us in...you heard about it?"

"Yes, I did," said Nova softly. "I didn't hear all the details, though."

"They're putting a little of the blame on me for not having stopped him in time," said Wildstar. "As a result, I have to punish him on Friday by making him repeat his first training day and putting him through all his training days in one day after he finishes up a grounding he began serving yesterday. I probably won't be done debriefing until nineteen or twenty hundred that night, at the earliest."

"That means we'll have to wait on that concert, won't we?" sighed Nova.

"I'm afraid so, Nova. I'm really sorry. I don't like breaking dates with you, or breaking promises," said Derek in a sad, gentle way.

"It's not your fault," said Nova. "You're a commander, and you're responsible for your subordinates, just like I'm responsible for mine in my squadron. And, Lord, are THEY a handful! I'm disappointed, but I'm not mad. I forgive you, Derek."

"Thanks," he said as they drew close and cuddled on the window seat for what would be the first of many times.

"Derek?" she asked timidly after they cuddled for a long moment.

"Yes?"

"If I got into trouble, would you forgive me?" she asked.

"Why would you ask something like that?" asked Wildstar. "You're one of the best officers I know, and not just because I'm engaged to you, either."

"It could happen to any of us. You know what subordinates can do," said Nova softly. "Anyone can mess up and take the best of us down with them," she said. "If it happened, would you be mad?"

"No," said Derek. "But it'll never happen to you. You're...too good."

"I hope so...because being a student and being a leader all at once is a tough job, and we both know that. But now, it seems tougher than ever," said Nova. "I hope everything's going to be all right."

Little did Nova know how right she was, or how soon this would prove to be true...

* * *

III. CONSTRUCTION AND DESTRUCTIONEarthFederal MegalopolisYokosuka EDF Dockyard ComplexUndersea Dock #2Thursday, December 10, 22011123 Hours-Spacetime

* * *

A few days later, after training Hartcliffe and many others to hell and back again, and after everyone had completed their solos, Derek Wildstar cut out of his training routine for a while to take care of some other business at the Yokosuka Space Naval Base.

There, he had arranged to meet Sandor and Orion to, at last, discuss some of the details of the battered _Argo's _refit, which, Sandor had informed him, was now in progress.

After descending into an office level underground, he met Sandor and warmly shook his hand.

"You look well," he said as he looked over the tall, imposing officer, who wore his green coveralls over his blues with a white ascot. Sandor again looked just the way he had in September before all of them had left.

"Thanks," he said.

"How's the new leg?"

"Working better than the old one," chuckled Sandor, who stopped to flex his bionic leg. "Finally, at long last, they're beginning to get things moving down here," he said.

"And it's about time, too!" said Orion as he came out of an inner office.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"Pretty well, considering' how old I am," said Orion. "But, I can still keep up with all of you, so don't think of tryin'; anything funny," he said with a smile. "If you'll come with me, I'll show you how the old girl looks now. She's still convalescing, so, be warned, it's not gonna be a pretty sight yet."

Wildstar, Sandor and Orion went down another lift, and emerged in a vast room that looked very familiar. Even though it was in a different location, it was an undersea dry-dock that looked very similar to the one from which they had left in September when they had stolen the _Argo._

Wildstar followed the two engineers, purposely keeping his eyes on the floor as they said, "You see, the biggest problem is the adaptation of the new technology to the old deckplan without compromising either the original deckplan of the compartment or compromising the efficiency of the new equipment," said Sandor.

"And didn't we find that we can't fit in quite all that fancy pushbutton maintenance, either?" said Orion.

"No...the existing conduits just aren't big enough down there, and that's all there is to it, I'm afraid," said Sandor.

"What are the two of you talking about," asked Wildstar.

"The rebuilding of the engine room," said Sandor. "Take a look, Wildstar. "We're here."

Derek Wildstar walked a little ahead, and then he looked up, and his mouth fell open, since, sitting there before him, sat the _Argo, _looking, from his vantage point, shiny, new, and magnificently rebuilt. All of the structural damage around the wave gun and the bow had been repaired, and the same went for what he could see of the forward turrets, the red-painted bulbous bow, the forward pulse lasers, and the bridge tower. He wasn't sure why, but the radar aerials seemed to look just a little bigger; but since it had been almost a month since he had seen the mighty ship last, he couldn't be sure.

He turned back to Sandor and Orion and yelled, "This is great! When can we go out?"

"Not for a while yet," said Sandor softly. "The minor work is done. The major work is still in progress in the after part of the ship. As a matter of fact, there, it's just beginning. Would you come with me, please?"

Wildstar nodded, following Sandor and Orion around to the stern of the ship.

There, he saw a different story. The stern of the _Argo_ was more or less torn apart, and there were many, many lifts present raising pieces of equipment up into the bowels of the space battleship.

"Where's the engines?" asked Wildstar.

"They're being completely reconstructed and uprated," said Sandor. "After the repair work, which was, in itself, extensive, this is the major part of the refit, and the reason why we don't think the ship will be ready until some time early next year," said Sandor.

"It's quite a job, and we just got permission to do it, and to do it right, the way that Captain Avatar and our dead comrades would want it," said Orion.

"Meaning?" asked Wildstar.

"We figured out how to give the _Argo _the speed and power of the _Andromeda_ without taking away her heart and lifeblood; the Star Force," said Sandor as Wildstar looked on mystified. "This way; to the engine room..."

Wildstar and the others entered, to find a compartment that looked about in the same sort of state of construction as his house! Namely, structurally present (except for the stern itself, which was just down to its plating and framework), but empty of everything except a few supports, conduits, and pipe connections. To his surprise, Wildstar saw the conduction pipe itself, which led forward to the wave motion gun, connected to no power plant at all!

"Where's the engine?" asked Wildstar in shock. "The energy generator...the warp equipment?"

"Gone," said Sandor, "...in favor of new equipment they're shipping in now."

"Well?" he demanded. "Where IS it?"

"In all those crates, lad," said Orion. "Matter of fact, we're priority. They just stopped work on Hull #039 in order to adapt its engine parts and ship the whole kit an' caboodle of them here straight from the factories."

"You mean?" asked Wildstar in shock.

"The _Argo's_ being rebuilt with an _Andromeda_-class power plant," said Sandor. "But, don't lose your temper, Wildstar. We thought about what you said that last time and I got the Defense Council to accept your arguments. The_ Argo's _being rebuilt with a smaller, lighter, and more powerful main energy plant from an _Andromeda_-class space battleship, the engines destined for the space battleship _Aquarius_, as a matter of fact. But, the engine's being readapted for the _Argo _so that it can be controlled by our old semi-automated systems, and not by the fully automated systems constructed in the _Andromeda _class."

"But, what about all that automated maintenance equipment you showed me?" asked Wildstar.

"Only a little of it's bein' installed," said Orion. "And, this engine's bein' altered so we can have repair crews fix all of it in case the automatic diagnostic unit fails. Also, unlike an _Andromeda,_ she's bein' designed so that the space warp mechanism can be fine-tuned by us rather than havin' to depend on the computer software. Since the _Argo's_ hull weighs less than those on those flyin' robots, anyhow, I think we'll break every speed record and power rating set by the original in her provin' runs."

"The Defense Council is going to be taking a good, hard look at how she performs when we go out on the rebuilt ship's trials in a few weeks, Wildstar," said Sandor. "And, if these ideas work, maybe the Council will eventually accept a few of my other ideas for improving the ship in a future refit down the road."

"Those are?" asked Wildstar.

"I can't get into the specifics yet," said Sandor. "Some of those devices have yet to be perfected on the drawing board, let alone even built. And, when we get permission to put them in the _Argo,_ someday, she'll be in refit for months, possibly as long as a year, before we can get everything done. "

"So it looks good," said Wildstar.

"That's right," said Orion. "And soon, she'll look even better."

"I'm glad," said Wildstar. "Even with my wedding to Nova coming up soon, part of me can't wait to get out into space again in the new ship. Did you hear anything about...?"

"Your new rank?" asked Sandor. "They haven't told me anything about that, yet. The Defense Council's still deliberating that one."

"Well, who do they have listed as the_ Argo's _skipper at the moment," asked Wildstar.

"No one," said Sandor. "Officially, the Captaincy of the _Argo_ and the Command of Star Force is now Vacant: Pending Command Review and Defense Council Recommendation."

"Vacant?" said Wildstar. "It hasn't been listed as that since..."

"Since Captain Avatar was listed dead when we returned from Iscandar," said Sandor. "As you know, you were then assigned as Acting Captain until Commodore Managua assumed command of the Third Squadron for your tour. That means they're mulling over who's going to be formally assigned as Skipper of the ship now. We're all sure it'll be you, Wildstar. Take it easy."

"I heard Vice-Admiral Wellington's being reassigned to something," said Wildstar glumly. "Did you hear what, yet?"

"No," said Sandor. "But word has it that he's not being assigned to the _Argo_."

"Officially," said Wildstar quietly.

"C'mon, Wildstar, it'll work out. And I told ye he'd like it this time," chuckled Orion. Everyone laughed, but still, Wildstar couldn't help having a little bit of unease lurking in his mind.

I'll have to wait and see, that's all, he thought._ When she's finished, we'll see how well all of this new equipment works together. So much is changing in my life, now, and so soon_.

he thought..

I wonder, he thought. _Will I still be in command of this new ship, or will they put someone else over my head until I learn more about her? I hope not...I'm the one the Star Force has come to respect..._"I can't believe you! YOU IDIOT," barked Tatiana Lubyanska as she threw her helmet down on a bench in the locker room at the Idlewild Fighter Base a little later that afternoon.

he thought. "I can't believe you! YOU IDIOT," barked Tatiana Lubyanska as she threw her helmet down on a bench in the locker room at the Idlewild Fighter Base a little later that afternoon. 

"What do you mean me?" cried Angelique Burkhardt. "Weren't YOU the one who didn't hear my report about the hypothetical bogie we were tracking?"

"It was nothing but a radar ghost!" hissed Tatiana as she threw her flight bag in her locker, very hard.

"But it was the one they wanted our flight to find!" she cried. "And because we missed it, we lost a lot of points. You know...Nova tried to take the blame for all of us..."

"What makes her so good? A uniform? A reputation?" hissed Tatiana. "She's a halfway good recon pilot, I'll admit that...but she does NOT by any means have the fire in her eyes to be a fighter pilot!"

"Maybe she's a flight leader because she studied and worked hard, harder than us..."

"Bah, these tests are child's play," hissed Tatiana. "You're nothing but an..."

"What do you mean I'm an...?"

"Ladies," said Nova as she came in out of the showers wrapped in a towel, with wet hair. "Please! None of us are doing particularly well today. Why do you two have to stand there and take it out on each other? You know it's not good for our morale!"

"Ma'am, with all respect, I say, morale, shmorale," clucked Tatiana. "You're okay, although maybe a little too nice, but this one," she said, pointing to Angie, "...is a fool who makes mistakes in flying, and is interested only in parties, the boyfriend, and painting her stupid toenails," she said. "You see?" she said, looking at Angie after she removed a boot. "She even does them in different candy colors, the fool mooshnika!"

"I beg your pardon?" sneered Angie. "Are you some kind of weirdo or something?"

"I'm not some idiot who paints her nails weird colors," sneered Tatiana.

"Okay, as long as we're discussing nails, you both know that polishing your nails on duty is non-regulation," said Nova, putting a foot up on the bench. "But that's beside the point for the moment, because it has nothing to do with our ability as pilots. I've heard you people at each other since the beginning of training, but this hits a _new low _for silliness! I haven't heard anything this kooky since junior high, and I've been around for twenty-three years now. Can you two cool it?"

"Da," said Tatiana angrily.

"I still don't know what her problem is," muttered Angie.

"Okay, okay," said Nova. "Whatever. Anything, so we can do this exercise again as a group tomorrow, okay," said Nova. "Now, if you two can get into those showers and let me put on a nice, fresh uniform, we can meet in an empty classroom or hangar and go over all this again, without assigning blame on anyone, to see what you, Tatiana, you, Angie, and myself, Nova Forrester, did wrong in our exercise as a flight today so we can get back into Hardy's good graces tomorrow and beat Delta Flight, who isn't even trying. Okay?"

Both of them gave her disgusted looks and went back to getting undressed. Nova took a breath and walked away. When she was out of sight of the others, she shook her head, thinking_, It's only gotten worse and worse between those two as the weeks have gone by. What's it going to be next?_

Then, as Nova pulled off her towel and began to pull on her underthings,she added to herself _I'm not sure I want to know what's going to be next! _She dried her hair a bit more, and then pulled on the lower half of a fresh set of blues, followed by the skin-tight tunic that matched.

Nova had just secured the fastener at the crotch of her tunic when she heard something slamming down where Angie and Tatiana were arguing. She started, picking up one of her boots.

A loud yell came a minute later, and then Nova heard Angie screeching, "That battle you were in wasn't my fault!" followed by more loud banging noises. At that, Nova just dropped her boot and ran over barefoot to see what was going on.

When she got there, she was horrified to see Angie and Tatiana, with their tunics open, grabbing and kicking at each other like maniacs. Tatiana threw a punch, which Angie blocked while kicking at her. Then, Tatiana picked up a boot and tried to bash Angie in the face with it, yelling, "You can go to the devil, Burkhardt! You almost got me killed back there."

"Like hell I did!" yelled Angie as she threw the boot out of Tatiana's hands and then slapped her hard across the face.

"STOP it!" barked Nova. "Stop it now!"

They refused to stop. Nova ran past them, stuck her head out the door into the gym, and yelled towards two young male Ensigns (namely, Wainwright and Mendelmann) "Gentlemen! I need your help in here!"

"What's goin' on?" asked Wainwright "Need help drying off?"

"Stop being a joker and get _in_ here!" snapped Nova.

"Hey, we can't go in there! That's the ladies' locker room!" protested Mendelmann

"I'm giving you a direct order to get in here!" snapped Nova. "There's a disturbance in progress!"

"What?" called Wainwright.

"A _fight_!" yelled Nova. "I recognize you two; you're from Charlie Flight! Get IN here!"

Nova kept one ear cocked towards the fight as Wainwright ran in, while Mendelmann hesitated.

"Get IN here!" snapped Nova with a tone that brooked no disobedience.

"Aye aye, Ma'am!" he cried, running in as Nova snapped, "Get over to the office and call up the OG! You," she snapped at Wainwright (who wasn't exactly small), "Help me break this up!"

Nova then ran over and snapped "STOP it, you two!" in a commanding voice, backed up by Wainwright, who stood off at a short distance.

Angie tried to stop and back off, but Tatiana didn't let her. "Lubyanska!" snapped Nova. "I said...STOP it!"

Tatiana glared at Nova in mid-punch, gritted her teeth, and then bashed Angie in the mouth full force. Blood spattered onto the floor.

Seeing that her orders didn't seem to be affecting the maddened young woman, Nova ran over and tried to stand between Tatiana and a stunned-looking Angie. "Lubyanska, she doesn't want to fight anymore! I said..."

Then, before Nova could react, a fist slammed into her shoulder, making her reel back against the locker with a loud bang. Nova yelped as she hit the locker, but she just managed to keep her balance since she was barefoot and had better footing than her assailant, who still had one boot off and one boot on.

Nova parried Tatiana's next punch with the palm of her hand and then used her knee to try to push her assailant back and take advantage of her imbalance. However, Tatiana threw in another punch that connected with Nova's solar plexus.

Nova fell down gasping with a loud "Oomph!" as, behind her, Angie yelped, jumping on her assailant's back like a wildcat. Angered again, Angie scratched at Tatiana's face as they went down, and Tatiana turned her head and spat at Angie, trying to bite her.

At that, Wainwright ran up, followed, a moment later, by two enlisted men who burst in from outside with drawn sidearms.

"You've got to break this up!" yelled Mendelmann as the enlisted men holstered their weapons and grabbed Angie and the wildly flailing Tatiana around their waists, pulling them apart without any hesitation. Wainwright ran over to Nova's side, carefully helping her to her feet as she gasped and coughed.

"Thanks," she gasped.

"Who's the ranking officer here?" barked one of the enlisted men.

"I am," coughed Nova.

"You tried to stop it, ma'am?" asked the bigger enlisted man, who had Tatiana's hands pinned.

"I did, Corporal," said Nova, recognizing the enlisted man from another post on the base.

"Good," he said as he snapped, "STOP it, you idiot!" at Lubyanska as she struggled one more time, just for show.

"Okay," he snapped. "Now, what's your name?"

"Junior Lieutenant Tatiana Lubyanska," she said.

"Lieutenant, you and your friend will have to go see the Base Commander, along with these two witnesses," he said, looking at Mendelmann and Wainwright, "and, last but not least, the ranking officer. Get yourselves dressed, and then, we'll have to go and take a little trip...""Now, out with it," said Priceman in his deep voice as he carried out, in his office, an Article Fourteen proceeding, or "Captain's Mast", against Lubyanska and Burkhardt, accused of fighting, and of Mendelmann and Wainwright, accused of dereliction of duty for having not done enough to stop the fight. Nova and the two enlisted men were present as witnesses. Priceman took a breath and said, "In case you didn't catch on, ladies, which one of you _started_ this fight?"

"I did, sir, after she grabbed at me," snapped Lubyanska.

"No, she tripped me first," protested Burkhardt.

Priceman examined the two younger women, who were at attention before his desk, with the air of a biologist examining a particularly interesting species of bacteria. "Well, Forrester?" he snapped. "What _really _happened? Who threw the first punch? None of these two know anything," he said, motioning towards Wainwright and Mendelmann, who were at attention to the left of the two females.

"Sir, all I know is that I heard Miss Burkhardt scream while I was taking off my sweaty uniform," said Nova. "When I turned around, they were at each other like that," she said, snapping her fingers for emphasis. "I ordered them to stop it, they refused, and I called for these two to lend their aid in breaking it up."

"And, as we know, they hesitated," said Priceman. "That hesitation is the reason they're here. So, what did YOU do, then, Miss Forrester?"

"When Mister Wainwright came in, I ordered both of them to stop it again. Miss Burkhardt stopped, but Miss Lubyanska kept on attacking her."

"What happened then?" asked Priceman.

"I tried to peacefully step in between them, and Miss Lubyanska attacked. I parried her punch, and tried to trip her with my knee..."

"STOP. Why did you attempt to trip her?"

"To throw her off-balance, sir. To neutralize the threat."

"I believe you've been instructed in Aikido?" asked Priceman.

"Yessir; I have a high rating in the art, as a matter of fact," said Nova.

"Which made that action inexcusable. You could've used a hold to neutralize Miss Lubyanska...or you could have ordered the two young Ensigns here to help you. I'm sure you have an effective command voice, don't you?"

"Yessir, I..."

"STOP," barked Priceman. "You were the ranking officer, Miss Forrester. You should've used that command authority and presence to stop this, rather than having had to resort to acting like one of the Three Musketeers. Who was your most recent commanding officer before being posted to this assignment?"

"Deputy Captain Wildstar, sir. I..."

"Wildstar...has a record, self-admitted, of getting himself involved in minor fracases aboard _his own ship_. I take it the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree, so to speak, Miss Forrester?" grinned Priceman with an evil glare. "I regret being forced to take this action, but I'm also charging you with dereliction of duty, for the reason of not having done enough to stop the fight between Miss Burkhardt and Miss Lubyanska by more...pacific means...before restoring to the use of your knees as offensive weapons. It's only because you were trying to stop it that I'm not charging you with fighting. Do you have a defense to proffer?"

"Only that I was trying to do my duty, sir. In my judgment, Miss Lubyanska seemed to be somewhat dangerous...and in dealing with disturbed persons as a counselor, I've discovered that the first thing you should do with someone who's violent is stop their violence firmly but gently. In my judgment...I thought I was doing the best thing for both of them. If you don't respect that judgment, sir, I'll accept whatever consequences you have in store for me," said Nova quietly, bowing her head a little.

"In that event, I find you guilty of dereliction of duty, by your own admission. Since the others have not admitted to their offenses, I find the all of rest of you guilty by the weight of the evidence presented before me," said Priceman as he looked down the row of silent faces. "I sentence all of you to three hours' worth of punitive extra duty in the form of physical training. Said training, by virtue of the cooler weather, is to be conducted in the gym, commencing at sixteen-hundred on the mark. Miss Forrester will act as ranking officer and drillmaster while running through all maneuvers herself."

"She will bring a report of the day's duty to me in this office at precisely nineteen-hundred and fifteen hours by presenting a written report in person along with her comrades. Is that understood?"

"Yessir," said everyone.

"There is one last detail," said Priceman. "All five of you are going to make that run in just your _skivvies_."

"What?" murmured Nova. "I…I…sir…I would like to protest. It is unnecessary."

"What's unnecessary, Lieutenant?"

"Making us run in our…underwear, sir. Uh…all of us."

"All of you want to be fighter pilots. As long as all of you are under my command, I cannot and will not mollycoddle you because of your gender. If you want to serve with us, you'll run in your underwear with the males when I see it's necessary. Unless, of course, you wish to refuse? Then, in that case, there are always more formal insubordination charges…"

"All right, sir," said Nova. "We'll… obey your orders." _Can't risk my career over something this stupid, even though I think this man is an idiot,_ thought Nova.

"Good. I want all of you to say yessir. Will you complete your assigned run?"

"_Yessir_!" they cried again.

"I can't HEAR you," barked Priceman.

"_YESSIR_!" all of them screamed in unison.

"Good. Forrester, get to it. Your squad has...eight minutes to get to that gym, change, and commence your punishment. Get going!"

"Yessir!" said Nova as she saluted in unison with the others. Then, they about-faced, and left the office as quickly as possible.

A few minutes later, right on time, a few officers having a basketball game in the gym noticed three females and two guys in just their skivvies (boxer shorts for the males, bras and panties for the females) bursting out of the ladies' and men's locker rooms. Without further ado, they began to jog around the track marked around the outer part of the gym, stopping after four laps to begin some stretching exercises in the middle of one of the basketball courts.

After doing those preliminary exercises, Nova, oblivious to the stares of a few of the others, began to lead her class in the usual Daily Dozen of push-ups, sit-ups, squat-thrusts, and other such exercises.

The others followed along, mostly refusing to look at each other as they performed their exercises.

After close to an hour's worth of such calisthenics, Nova had her charges stretch, stand back up, and then (even though she was a little out of breath), she said, "Okay, now, we've got to run a few kilos around the gym to carry on with this punishment. I'll lead, and everyone else will follow. Ready?" huffed Nova as she led the others onto the track. "Let's go!"

As Nova ran around the track, she began to sing a song she had learned while she had been a squad leader leading plebes in Beast Barracks in her RTC classes at The University of Colorado_. "I don't know but I've been told..._" she began to sing, as the others responded with the same line.

"...the streets o' heaven are paved with gold..."

"...the streets o' heaven are paved with gold!" sang back the others as they ran around, oblivious to the surprised stares of Wildstar, Laurel Hartmann, Bryan Hartcliffe, and Darryl Pulvan as they came into the gym carrying their flight bags.

"What the HELL is going on?" asked Wildstar as he noticed the weird procession at the far end of the gym.

"They're being punished, far as I heard, sir," said one of the guys playing basketball as he caught his breath. "They are in their underwear, you notice."

Another one said, "I heard something about a fracas before in one of the other buildings."

"...Aye...three a' them are females..." said Hartcliffe.

"Stop staring," snapped Laurel angrily.

"Why? They're cute," he rejoined.

"Mister, I'm going to have to be in gym shorts in about two minutes for punitive PT of my own, and if you're going to ogle me like that, I don't want to be in the same room with you," shot back Laurel.

"Wow..." said Pulvan.

"Stop staring, all of you!" snapped Wildstar. "Would you like it if people stared at you the same way while I led YOU through PT for screwing up your maneuvers?"

"I wouldn't mind if they were female, and I was in me skivvies, sir," said Hartcliffe. "And, furthermore...I...wooooooooo," he yelled.

"Look at that! They're not just females. They're BABES! And one of them's me Angie! AY! ANGELIQUE! Y' GOT a pair! Nice legs, too! And...an...aye Wildstar! Sir! GREAT TASTE, man! Your fiancée looks great in her lingerie!"

"...no...no...it can't be," muttered Derek to himself as he noticed Nova leading the group. "It can't be you!"

"She looks good, sir," said Hartcliffe.

"You...just SHUT up," whispered Wildstar fiercely through gritted teeth as he noticed Nova glancing his way, and then, just as quickly, glancing away, apparently oblivious to her exposure in her skivvies, but still telegraphing her shame by blushing from head to toe.

Oh, Derek...why'd you have to show up? she thought as she ran. "Why the heck is Miss Forrester making them do that?" asked Pulvan, oblivious to Wildstar's angry stare.

"I hear they were ordered to do it," said another one of the guys.

"Everyone...into the locker rooms...NOW!" barked Wildstar to his charges. "And you people, QUIT staring," added Wildstar. "When I work you people...you'll have no opportunity to stare!"About two hours later, in darkness punctuated only by streetlights and lights shining from a few windows, Nova, as per her orders, double-timed her charges down a street to Priceman's office. They were all thanking God that the wind wasn't blowing too hard against their sweaty bodies as they ran, finally working as a team. Ignoring the stares of the new Admin officer as she explained the reason for their appointment, Nova led the other officers right back onto the carpet before Priceman. Then, she snapped to an attention that was just as proud and rigid as it would've been if she had been fully dressed, neat and clean, as opposed to being in their skivvies.

"At ease, everyone," said Priceman. "Your report?"

"Sir, this report will detail everything we've done in the past three hours," said Nova.

Priceman read the sweat-stained flimsy and nodded. "Not bad," he said. "All right. All of you have completed your punishment. Get back to the gym, get dressed, for God's sakes, and post back to your quarters. I think you've had enough excitement for today, ladies and gentlemen. Now you see the value of working together?"

"Yessir," all of them snapped.

"Great," said Priceman. "That'll be all. Dismissed.""Well?" asked Nova as they walked back towards the gym in the dark at a normal pace.

"_Bozhe moi,_ I'm tired," said Tatiana. "How'd you ever learn to run at that kind of pace, ma'am?"

"You pick up all sorts of things in the Star Force," sighed Nova. "Although I must admit I never had all that many guys staring at me like that at once…like that. God, it's _freezing_ out here!" She stopped for a moment to cross her arms over herself. She was trying to walk in the grass, brown as it was, since it was a little easier on her un-sneakered feet.

"You never wore a bikini, ma'am? " asked Wainwright.

"No; I usually swim in a one-piece," said Nova. "Matter of fact, I just bought my first grown-up bikini this week."

"For swimming in the base pool?" asked Mendelmann.

"No, for wearing in front of my fiancée' on the honeymoon when he becomes my husband," snapped Nova.

"I'll bet you'd look good in a bikini, ma'am," said Tatiana. "I think you would, too, Angie, da, even though you've made some dumb flying errors in the past?" she said, chuckling as she elbowed her new-found comrade lightly.

"Leave me alone," said Angie softly.

"What's wrong?" said Tatiana. "Surely you're not still angry?"

"No...I'm not," said Angie listlessly. "It's just...well...it's nothing. Nothing about you, anyway. I'm just...alone...and cold."

"We're not that far from the gym," said Nova. "But, I know what you mean...all my muscles are cramping up in this cold. When we get in, everyone can get a nice, warm shower before we get dressed and go home. C'mon, Angie. It was pretty humiliating, but he could've done much worse to all of us."

"Nova...mind if I catch up in a minute?" asked Angie. "I...see a fountain over there. I just want a drink."

"Okay," said Nova. "Meet us in the gym."

Nova led everyone to the gym while Angie walked along slowly, kicking at pebbles. She walked up to the outdoor pedestal fountain and took a drink, sobbing as she stood there all alone in the cold. Then, hoping that the others were in the gym, she took off, running her heart out as she just ran towards an empty hangar that was illuminated by only a few dim lights.Inside the hangar, which had a modicum of warmth, Angie just sat down on the cold floor, curled up in a fetal position, and began to weep. She wept for quite a while, sitting there like that in just her underwear.

"WHY? WHY," she whispered in the echoing, empty darkness. "Why the hell were you just pointing at me like a piece of meat, Bryan Hartcliffe, you dirtball? WHY?" she sobbed.

Angie said nothing else as she continued to cry on and on. Finally, she heard a soft, but firm voice echoing across the hangar a few minutes later. "Angie?" called the female voice. "Burkhardt? Are you IN here?"

Nova, you lucky stiff, thought Angie with angry, clenched fists. _You're so lucky. You're back in your own warm clothes again…and…At least HE had the good grace to make them stop LOOKING at YOU and defended you! Your fiancée loves you! I don't know if Bryan gives a damn about me or not!_

thought Angie with angry, clenched fists. 

"Angie?" called out Nova in the near-darkness as the wind blew around her, making her feel cold even in her fresh, clean uniform, flight jacket, and boots._ Poor Angie! She must be freezing in just her underwear, _thought Nova. "Burkhardt? Come OUT!"

"No...I don't want to face you now...not now..." said Angie, as she got up and tiptoed barefoot across the cement floor to another doorway. "So, I'll just slip off to..."

Angie got out and ran across the grass to another hangar. A loud din was coming from either that hangar or another one not far away, but she was just oblivious as she ran on, looking for a place to run, a place to hide.

Angie ran to the side door of the next hangar, ignoring the sting of the gravelly walk against the soles of her feet as she opened the door and ran in...

...to something that looked like pandemonium.

* * *

IV. HOUSE OF THE RISING SUNEarth

Federal Megalopolis

Idlewild Space Naval Air Station

Thursday, December 10, 22012006 Hours-Spacetime

* * *

This hangar, like the one that Angelique Burkhardt had just left, was almost empty, save for the hulks of two Type 100's and two Cosmo Tigers in the process of being refitted for some purpose or another. As such, they had been "hangar queens" for quite some time, although Angie was mystified as to why one of the Tigers seemed to be painted glossy black under an elaborate mask of some type that was evidently being taped to the Astrofighter's fuselage during the day by flight crews.

What really surprised Angie was the source of the noise in the hangar. Off at the other end, down near another set of doors, someone had pulled in a portable PT stage and a pair of flashing strobe lights cannibalized off another hangar queen somewhere.

On the stage, performing under the strobe lights, was a rock band that obviously didn't belong there.

The band consisted of a three guitarists and a drummer, who sat behind a battered blue-flecked drum set with a painted bass-drum skin that proclaimed that the name of the band wasTHE SCARABS

with the name being written in strange-looking "psychedelic" lettering similar to that used in the 1960's.

The drummer was a fat bearded fellow that Angie didn't recognize. Neither did she recognize the electric bass player, who was a very tall, thin man with a mustache whose hair looked blonde in the dim, flashing light. And, furthermore, Angie didn't recognize the bearded man with black shades who compulsively plucked the strings of a very-expensive looking electric guitar as he wailed harmony into a microphone.

She did, however, recognize the tall man with sandy blonde hair, thick mustache, and distinctive little round John Lennon-style glasses who was either singing, belching or screaming (she wasn't sure which) a rather twisted set of lyrics. Angie guessed he was trying to sing the old twentieth-century blues piece "_House of the Rising Sun_" as he strummed convulsively at a black and white Rickenbacker 320 electric guitar.

Given her mood, her introduction was not gentle. Angie simply ran up to a startled Bryan Hartcliffe and slapped him across the face.

"Hey, why the heck did y' ave to come 'ere and do THAT, Angie," he snapped in protest as the band clanged to a halt.

"Why did you have to point me out to everyone as a nice piece of MEAT while I was running around almost half-naked in my skivvies as a punishment today, Bryan?" she shot back.

"Well...why the 'ell haven't ye put your clothes back on, ya dumb bird?" shot back Bryan.

"Because I was too upset, and because maybe I thought your friends would like a better look!" she sobbed. "Here, Bryan! Show me off! Now, c'mon everyone! I'm sure Bryan here always wanted a stripper! Here, Bryan! Show them everything!" she said, turning around on the balls of her feet and thrusting her rear end at the startled band as she reached for Bryan's hand. "Here! Show me off, Bryan," snapped Angie as she thrust her bra-clad bosom up. "Go ahead! After what I went through today, and all the comfort you gave me, I might as well be naked! Here! Pull down my damn shorts! Show them, Bryan! Show them that's what you've got if that's all you value me for!"

Hartcliffe took off his guitar and yelled, "Angie, STOP that! Mick! Gimme me jacket!"

"Uhh...sure..," said the drummer, who tossed Hartcliffe his flight jacket as the others stood goggle-eyed. Hartcliffe set down his guitar with a loud wail of feedback and forcefully, but gently, wrapped Angie up in his jacket, leaving him in his blues.

"What are you doing that for?" she asked.

"You'll freeze your tail off running' round like that! Case y' haven't noticed, you can like, see your breath in 'ere! And put your bloody shoes back on! Your feet'll freeze off!"

"Okay...you've covered me up," sobbed Angie. "I don't have any shoes to put on, Bryan."

"Where are they?"

"The gym, Bryan. The locker room, I mean. Now, what about what you did before?"

"Misplaced pride. And who made you run around like that? That stupid bird Nova?"

"No, it was Priceman, the base commander."

"WHO?" said Hartcliffe dangerously.

"Commander Priceman. He punished Tatiana and I for fighting, and he punished Mendelmann, Wainwright, and Forrester for all letting us fight. None of us liked being punished like that! Least of all Nova! I don't know if you noticed, but she couldn't look at her fiancée while we were running, and, as I saw, he made you people go into the showers and then not look at us because he couldn't bear seeing her humiliated like that, either! The man, you note, is very chivalrous! I was wishing you would've done the same thing!"

"I made a joke, but you know, deep down, I was burnin' inside."

"Why?" shot back Angie.

"Because, I DO care about you, ya bleedin' bird! Haven't you noticed...I've been tryin' to hang around with you a lot lately?"

"So, what does that mean?"

"It means I care for you, Angie. I do. Honest, luv," said Hartcliffe as a little of his brogue faded away for a moment. "You guys, get outta 'ere," he barked at the rest of the Scarabs. "We're reschedulin' rehearsal for Sunday night, y' idiots!"

"Yeah, okay," said Mick.

"What about our gig," asked the bassist, who also sounded Anglian.

"Rehearsin' for that hotel gig in Boulder can wait, guys. That bloody restaurant manager and that rich dame with the black hair and the pearls won't worry too much if we get a few notes wrong at 'er snooty daughter's wedding' anyway."

"Wedding? You mean you rejects actually got a real _gig_?" giggled Angie.

"Yeah. For this society dame's weddin' in Boulder, Colorado on the day after Christmas. I only met the mom. I asked to meet the daughter and she told me_, "She's too sweet and important to meet the likes of you yet._" Of course, she laughed.

"Snooty," said Angie. "Mind if I sing along at the wedding if I can get leave?"

"Yeah, we could use a bird doin' backup vocals," laughed Bryan. "'Ere, luv," he said, handing her a bottle of clear fluid. "Yer lookin' cold."

"What's this?"

"Your fave rave drink, luv. Vodka. Chug it oop."

Angie took a long sip, feeling the unnatural warmth going down to her toes as she heard a soft voice calling out, "ANGIE?"

"Oh, shoot, man, they spotted the rehearsal spot."

"Not if we can help it, Pat," said Hartcliffe. "You, and you, go out that way, out back. Pat, you go that way, and tell the crazy bird there's no one in 'ere. Me and you...Angie...we're makin' a break for the office. Up that flight o' stairs, and oop we go..."

Angie and Bryan fled up a flight of stairs in the dark, up to an office that was in an overhang of the ceiling.

Inside the small office, Hartcliffe rolled down some blinds and turned on a dim desk light. He took a deep breath and sat down on a dropcloth stretched out on the floor.

"Well...no one'll find us 'ere...at least not for several hours."

"Then, shouldn't you take me home?" asked Angie.

"Yes, and no," said Hartcliffe as he took another swig of vodka and then passed the bottle to Angie, who was feeling lighter and more giggly as the moments went by. "I'd say, yeah, except for one thing. I think we're both gettin' close to the legal limit."

"Limit of what?" asked Angie dreamily as she took some more vodka, this time on her own, while cuddling against Hartcliffe, telling herself it was just to keep warm.

"The limit, luv, of legal intoxication," he purred while he found himself stroking Angie's leg.

Angie noticed the attention, and was unsure how to react. After a moment of looking at Bryan with mock annoyance, she took some more vodka, stretched out a long leg with a sigh, and flipped her foot up into the air to pose for a moment. Then she whispered, "Close your eyes, Bryan. I'd like to do something now."

"What?"

"Give a nice, soft interview in a whisper," she said.

"About what, luv?"

"The personal life of Bryan Hartcliffe," whispered Angie. "I think it's improving far too quickly for him, and he's very, very surprised," said Angie as she licked her lips...

* * *

V. ENTER THE CAPTAINEarthFederal MegalopolisVicinity of Idlewild Space Naval Air StationFriday, December 11, 22010406 Hours-Spacetime

* * *

"So, we're up an hour early," said Wildstar as he drove towards the base in PT sweats with Nova beside him in the aircar, also wearing her sweats. "I have the feeling this isn't so we both can work out a bit more, Nova."

"No, it's not," said Nova. "Remember when I was telling you...about when we had to endure that punishment yesterday?"

"Yeah. That Priceman went a little too far, I think, making all of you run on and on for several hours. And…as for your PT garb…uhh…"

"I agree with you, but, remember, it was still my duty," said Nova. "You remember I told you that I got in so late because Burkhardt was missing?"

"Yes, I remember that now. She still can't be missing, Nova. Someone's got to have found her by now."

"I hope so," said Nova in a worried tone that radiated her honest concern for her friend and squadron mate.

It was rather fortunate that Nova was unaware of Angie's current predicament."Hmmm..." sighed Angie pleasantly as she woke up on her beau's chest on the desk.

"Mornin', luv," muttered Hartcliffe.

"Good morning, Bryan," whispered Angie cheerfully as she pushed herself up a little off Bryan's chest. She looked around, remembering where they were. "Daylight!" she cried.

"Ah...don't worry, luv. You told me this hangar's not used all that mooch."

"You said that," said Angie.

"No, you did. Right when you were, you know..."

"What?" asked Angie, who was trying, unsuccessfully, to unmuss her hair.

"When you were givin' me a very nice gift of yourself, luv," said Hartcliffe impishly. "Hey, what'cha doing NOW?" he asked.

"Guess," said Angie as she curled herself around Hartcliffe.

Angie sighed as she began to kiss Bryan all over. Hartcliffe responded with a few kisses of his own. Soon, it was evident that it was more than a few...

**

* * *

**

"Hello?" cried Nova as she ran into a hangar at the far end of the base. "Anyone in there?"

Silence was her only answer. She looked in the hangar, and saw nothing but a few quiet hangar queens.

Where could they be? she thought. Suddenly, an inspiration hit her. _Maybe the hangar near the gym?_

she thought. Suddenly, an inspiration hit her. 

Knowing that she'd have to tell Derek where she was going, and knowing that it would take a while, Nova ran off towards the gym.

* * *

About half an hour later, Nova came to the hangar she was interested in checking out. She walked up, tapped at the door, and cried, "Hello? Angie? Are you in there?"

"Oh, no," muttered Angie from the other side of the door. "...Nova..."

"Oh, shoot, not another one!" mumbled Hartcliffe.

"Silence, idiot!" snapped a deep voice that Nova didn't recognize. "Miss Burkhardt is in here. Are you alone?"

"Yes; Lieutenant Commander Wildstar's searching the adjacent building!"

"Then enter! Let's say we have an emergency, and that we could use you for a bit."

Nova opened the door and snapped a salute as soon as she saw an older man in a Captain's peacoat standing there near Angie Burkhardt...(who seemed to have on nothing but Hartcliffe's flight jacket) and Bryan Hartcliffe.

The older man briskly returned it and said, " It's refreshing to know that some people in here have respect for senior officers. Good morning, Miss Forrester. My name's Captain Joseph Burkhardt, and the father of the young lady in this little tragedy. I'm the skipper of the patrol cruiser _Colorado, _and we just came in last night from Ganymede Station, along with the _Danube._"

"The _Danube_?" cried Nova.

"She's fine...not too many casualties. Let's say that your uncle Hiram and I spent some time talking as we aided in the repair of each other's ships. We were about to head in sans wave-motion guns to tell the Earth Government and Zordar what we thought of their surrender when you and your shipmates beat us to the punch and did it first. When we heard everything, we stood down a bit and decided to head for Ganymede under radio silence, while, of course, looking for stragglers. Your reputation precedes you. Avatar did a darn good job teaching you kids what to do when the chips were down and you've got everyone's gratitude. Now, if you wouldn't mind doing me a favor and getting my daughter some clothes, since she can't run around in just her dirty skivvies," said Burkhardt as he held up Angie's undershorts and bra.

What the heck is she doing undressed? thought Nova in a befuddled fashion for a moment as it suddenly came to her what had happened. _He caught them up to something! Boy, I'll bet you two are in trouble now!_

thought Nova in a befuddled fashion for a moment as it suddenly came to her what had happened. 

"I don't have the combination for her locker, but I think I have a spare uniform or a dress or something in mine," said Nova. "I'll be back in a moment. What's _going on_?" gasped Nova as she caught a look at Hartcliffe's bruised-up and bleeding face.

"Just a family discussion," said Burkhardt blandly. "He was just caught in a dumb brawl with some friends," lied Burkhardt as he shocked Hartcliffe by winking in his direction. "If you wouldn't mind getting someone to bring up a few supplies for his face, and getting someone you trust to guard this door for a few minutes..."

"Are you sure he's all right, Angie?" asked Nova.

"He's fine...I think," said Angie uneasily.

I ain't fine! thought Hartcliffe. _Ah think a tooth's loose. Most irate Daddy I ever met in me life..._

thought Hartcliffe. 

Hartcliffe himself lied, nodding as Nova stepped away.

"Again, Miss Forrester, do get my daughter some clothes, " growled Burkhardt. "I don't want her catching cold for what could soon be the most important day of her life..."

"Right. Sure," said Nova as she walked out, unsure of what to make of all this, although, granted, she was doing a good job of adding up two and two even as she left the room, having been a counselor for quite some time as a Living Officer.

If it's what I think it is, thought Nova, _I'd better cover for them and get them a good "guard" right away...and I think I've got just the person around to keep this quiet until Captain Burkhardt decides what to do..._

thought Nova, 

At that, Burkhardt said, "Now, back to where we left off, Hartcliffe, before I began to use you as a punching bag..." He shocked the pilot by addressing by name for the first time in this unpleasant conference. "What this boils down to is this. There's a very good chance that you've gotten my daughter pregnant. That may not be the case, but if it is, we must act accordingly."

"I don't want a formal inquiry, because this is never going to happen again, either way," said Burkhardt bluntly. "Never. I don't want my daughter's career ruined, nor that of the father, or, rather, the potential father of her child. So. You two have two choices, and only two, as I see it. You two will either do the right thing and get married, or you will stay away from each other...forever."

"What if she's preggers?" asked Hartcliffe.

"If she is, than you have all the more incentive to marry her, because if you don't, and I ever catch you sneaking around her again, I'll make sure you NEVER sneak around another henhouse in your life, Mister! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yessir," said Hartcliffe.

"So, what is it?" snapped Burkhardt.

"It's this...but I've got to ask 'er, first," retorted Hartcliffe.

Hartcliffe turned away from her father and took Angie's hands. "Angie, luv. Will you bleedin' marry me?"

The room fell silent as Angie huddled in Bryan's jacket and considered the question. After a moment, a long, long moment, she looked up and said, "Yes. I will."

"Thanks," said Hartcliffe as a heavy hand fell on his shoulder.

Hartcliffe warily turned his head and noticed Captain Burkhardt smiling at him. "Congratulations, you cretinous idiot," he chuckled. "Welcome to the family, son. Now, if you can forget what happened before, I'll forget what evidently happened last night, too."

"Agreed, sir," said Hartcliffe.

"Great," said Burkhardt. "Now, if you two can get relieved from duty for part of the day, we can take care of some things, such as preparing to get this over with by tomorrow afternoon."

"TOMORROW afternoon?" cried Hartcliffe.

"Yes, tomorrow afternoon," chuckled Burkhardt. "Consider this a twenty-third century shotgun wedding, you son-of-a-gun! I'm not gonna rest until you two are legal. Then, I'm gonna take some of that Vodka from you, take a big drink and let you two get back down to business."

"Daddy, I don't...have any money for a dress," said Angie softly.

"Fine. What about you?" he snapped in Hartcliffe's direction.

"I'm broke 'til payday, sir."

"Fine. Get anything done right, you gotta do it yourself," snorted Burkhardt as he pulled a wad of credit notes out of his pocket. He distractedly began to count them as he turned towards a wall, looking at a blueprint of a plane.

A tap came at the door. "Enter!" barked Burkhardt as Nova came in, carrying a dress and her pink dress sandals along with a medkit.

"Good, we've got medical help. Miss Forrester, would you tend to that benighted soul after you hand my daughter some clothes?"

" Sure. They're mine, but I think they should more or less fit," said Nova as she handed Angie the clothes. "I hope my shoes will fit," she said as she opened the medkit to treat Hartcliffe.

"They're fine," said Angie as she took the clothes from Nova. "Thanks. I think they'll fit fine."

"They will, luv," leered Hartcliffe. "Nice, Nova. And yer perfume don't smell too bad, either, luv."

"Thanks. But I didn't wear it for _you_, you understand." smiled Nova sweetly.

"Of course. Oh, yer hands are so soft." he whispered as Nova began to treat his wounds.

"Sit still," whispered Nova as she slapped him lightly. "And if you don't stop the comments, I'll report you."

"To who?"

"To Angie," she whispered sweetly.

"Oh," chuckled Hartcliffe.

"Did you post a guard?" asked Burkhardt as Angie stepped into a closet to get dressed.

"Uh-huh," said Nova as she rapidly finished treating Hartcliffe. _I wish I could wash my hands, and not just on account of the disinfectant spray! Mister Randy Tomcat here should be fumigated!_ she thought. "Derek's out there. He has NO idea what's going on, but as far as he's concerned, Hartcliffe's on sick call for the day."

"Good. What about my daughter?"

"I ran into Hardy a minute ago, and it's the same for her. He excused me to look after her for the day."

"Great," said Burkhardt. "What are you up to today?"

"Not much, although since this training day was to let out early, my mother was going to take me out looking at wedding dresses," blushed Nova. "Sorry...but Derek and I are getting married in just fifteen days...I've got to get _something _decent to make me look the part of a bride."

"Great. Take her with you and buy her a wedding dress with this," said Burkhardt as he shoved the wad of bills at a surprised Nova. "Is anyone from her squadron free tomorrow?"

"Why?" asked Nova.

"Well, they're getting married tomorrow, so, they'll need witnesses," snapped Burkhardt.

"I can be there," offered Nova.

"Really?" cried Angie as she ran up, hugging Nova. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome," said Nova softly. "You look very nice in that, by the way," said Nova. "First time I've ever seen you in a dress! You should wear one more often!"

"Thanks," blushed Angie.

"Good. Take her out shopping," said Burkhardt.

"What are you doing with Hartcliffe?" asked Nova.

"I'm taking him with me on a few errands to get some papers and certificates. I'll meet you two back at the Base CO's office at 1400, and I'll bring Mister Hartcliffe, all right?"

"Fine," said Nova.

"Great. Carry on, girls," said Burkhardt.

Nova and Angie saluted and left. Outside, Burkhardt heard Wildstar's voice as he and Hardy greeted Nova and Angie, and he smiled to himself as they left, especially as he heard Nova airily saying, "...and I'm sorry, but we can't take you with us later, Derek. It'd be bad luck for you to see my dress before the ceremony!"

"Well, they're gone," said Burkhardt. "Now, there's everything you and I have to do."

"Papers and certificates?" asked Hartcliffe.

"Darn right, son," said Burkhardt. "You aren't getting out of my sight today until you and my daughter get that license. By the way, don't I have to take you back to your quarters for a proper dress coat? Those flight jackets are all right, but I'd rather see you looking reputable when I introduce you to your mother-in-law later today."

Crud, thought Hartcliffe. _I'm dead! He's bloody serious!_

thought Hartcliffe. **

* * *

**

**VI. HERE COME THE BRIDES**

**Earth Federal Megalopolis**

**Conklin's Bridal Gazebo**

**Friday, December 11, 2201**

**1102 Hours-Spacetime**

**

* * *

**

Angelique Burkhardt, although she had come from middle-class surroundings, felt rather uneasy in the rarefied atmosphere of Conklin's bridal department as she sat in her borrowed dress in a thick white plush chair looking at a huge white bridal catalog. Across the table from her, against a wall backdrop that looked like the white wood-style latticework of a fancy garden gazebo, a young woman with expensive wire-rimmed glasses sat with a filebox of cards ready to tend to her needs.

"Just tell me what you like," she said softly.

It's not what I like: it's more like: what can I afford here, even with Daddy's money? thought Angie. "Well, my fiancé's not too traditional."

"Then I take it this will be informal," asked the clerk, who wore a small badge identifying her as a "Conklin's Bridal Coordinator"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"No need to be afraid of anything," said the coordinator reassuringly. "I just assumed that, perhaps, this was a double wedding since you came in with Lieutenant Forrester."

"You knew of her, then?"

"This was her appointment day," she said softly. "Her mother's a regular customer at our Denver store, and her coordinator sent a list of selections that Mrs. Forrester assumed would be suitable for her daughter. Isn't your mother around?"

"My mother's in town, but she's not exactly well," said Angie. _It's more like she's in the hospital, and we're not sure if she'll make it, _she thought.

"I'm so sorry. Well, it's just us, then. What do you like?"

Angie flipped a page, and said, "cute", over one dress. She nodded at another, and then, finally, her eyes lit up over another dress that the coordinator was skipping over.

"That one," she said eagerly.

"Are you certain?" she asked. "That's a ...summer design."

"But my fiancé' will love it! Do you have one in stock in my size?"

"I believe I...do..." the coordinator said. "But, I'd reconsider. It is somewhat cool out, and..."

"Please. That's what I want."

"Of course. A bride can never be wrong," said the coordinator softly, while the look in her eyes thought otherwise. "You said this was your size on the registration form, Miss Burkhardt," she asked.

"Yes."

"We have one. Monique over there will assist you. Do you just want the dress, or would you like to consider the whole ensemble?"

"I want that veil, that garter, and the shoes that go with the one on the next page, please," said Angie, pointing out a few details.

"Of course. Monique?" called the coordinator.

"Yes?"

"These are Miss Burkhardt's selections. She's interested in a Rivera Lace, with the Halston veil and garter and the Allison's Breeze shoes with the lace-up ribbons, please. The numbers are on the sheet."

"Of course. This way, please, and we'll try everything on," said Monique.

"Sure."

The coordinator shook her head quietly and then walked over around a corner to another table, where she heard Nova talking with her mother.

"Mother, it's sort of settled. I'd either like the Besame' or the Diana gowns you picked out."

"But I picked those two before I remembered you and Derek were going to Boulder to get married. Won't you freeze?"

"You've heard of heating and coats, I'm sure?" chuckled Nova, who had stopped at home to change into a blue dress and boots for this shopping trip. "And, besides, you know how funny Boulder can get when it's December. It can be warm there."

"How warm?" asked the coordinator.

"Well, one day, I ran around in shorts two days after Christmas."

"And I almost killed you," said Teri. "Listen, Genine...I can't let her get married in either of those. She'll get sick of cold and..."

"Mrs. Forrester, you can advise, but it's never wise to tell a bride no. She obviously has her heart set on one of these two gowns and they both look regal. Which one would you like first?"

"The Besame'," said Nova. "Even if I don't like it for myself, I think something like that in pastel shades would be lovely for my bridesmaids."

"Pastel?" asked the coordinator.

"Pastels. I'd like all my bridesmaids to look like a...sort of rainbow in that church."

"I think that's beautiful," said the coordinator. "What about the ensemble?"

"I've got that set," said Nova. "Your old veil, Mom, but this Cloudsweep will look sort of like it. Along with it, I'd like the Halston gloves and those Cindi's shoes on the next page."

"The Starlight Breeze sandals?" asked the coordinator.

Nova nodded and smiled, while Teri said, "But your feet will freeze, too!"

"I don't mind," said Nova.

"Now for hose, we're a little limited, and..."

"That's okay. I think those would look cuter without on me without hose."

"NOVA! You're crazy! This is NOT June!"

"Mother, I'll be fine. I'm going to probably dance in bare feet anyway at the reception..."

"No you won't!"

"We'll see, Mother," smiled Nova. "Here we go. Let's try it all on, okay?" said Nova while the coordinator wrote in down.

"Of course, Miss," said the coordinator. "Patricia!"

"Yes?"

"Assist Miss Forrester with these, please."

"Of course."

Nova left while Genine poured a nervous Teri some tea. "You look terrible."

"She's my baby, and I'm losing her," whispered Teri. "And she's SO independent!"

"She's wonderful," said Genine. "Who's the girl she brought in with her?"

"A friend of hers from flight training named Angelique. From what I understand, she and her fiancée' decided to get married on the spur of the moment. Nova said something about the fact that the father encouraged it."

"Who's she marrying?"

"Another pilot."

"I see," said Genine as she thought. _It's a cosmo-gun wedding. It has to be. And she's probably pregnant! That's why she chose that short thing! _"I'm afraid that I met your sister the other day," said

Genine sadly.

"Which one?" asked Teri.

"Yvona," she sniffed.

"Her?" she cried.

"Her. She tried to hand me a poorly printed tract. I took it anyway. Then, I read it. How did she ever get that way? The church...she espouses, doesn't seem Catholic, Protestant, Pagan, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Shinto or anything I've heard of. There was something on there about the "Christian Union", but there seemed to be nothing remotely Christian about her church," said Genine in a whisper. "I'm a decent Baptist, and I don't even mind baptisms in a stream, even though I think they're a little...rustic...but "Baptisms in Blood, Ashes and Brimstone?" And "Avenging Black Angels and Torturers?" And "Sacrificing Holocausts of our Children?" And the "New Death?" Sure, I've heard of the "New Birth", but...this...and she said she was the Prophetess of Judgment?"

"My sister Yvona is very ill," said Teri in a sad tone of voice. "And she's gotten worse, ever since all those miscarriages...years ago..."

"Shouldn't she be put away?"

"She was, briefly. But, she was let go in a few weeks. She never actually seemed to be dangerous to herself or others."

"But...she was standing there in a...a...sackcloth dress! And she had on sandals made of rope and old tires, and her hair looked like a witch's head of hair! And she was screaming with her followers about "Your children are next! Your children are NEXT!""

"When will our children be next?"

"You haven't seen her?"

"I haven't heard her preach lately," said Teri. "I haven't...cared to."

"She says..."Your children will be next...when the "Dark Lord" comes."

"Oh, God. She's worshipping the devil now," whispered Teri.

"She said..."when He came from above." I know the Bible says there'll be a Last Judgment, but a Dark Lord? Who could that be?"

"She's seriously ill. I have to talk to her husband," said Teri. "And that's all I'll say about my sister Yvona for now, Genine, if it's..."

"Excuse me?" said Nova in a soft voice.

Teri and Genine turned to see Nova floating up in a veil, gloves, and a classic, clean, trim long dress with a sort of low neckline that left her shoulders bare. With each step, her bare toes peeked out in intricate white and silver high-heeled sandals that were definitely made of neither rope nor old tires.

"That's beautiful on you!" said Teri. "Do you like it?" she asked as her daughter gingerly stepped up onto a little platform before some mirrors.

"I do...but, give me some time to think," said Nova softly as she smiled at herself in the mirror, assisted by the other clerk.

A moment later, Nova turned her head, just in time to see Angelique coming up behind her.

Angelique was in white, with a veil and she wore dress sandals, too, but the resemblance ended there. Where Nova's dress was ankle-length, heavy, and sleek, Angie's was lacy, light, and mid-thigh length, showing off her beautiful bare legs to perfect advantage. Her veil was longer than the dress, while Nova's was just shoulder-length. Where Nova wore long gloves, Angie wore none. Nova's sandals were trim things that covered nothing above the ankle, but Angie's had satin straps that wound halfway up her calf, almost to her knee, making it look a little like she was wearing airy open-toe boots rather than sandals.

Angie grinned at herself in the mirror while Nova looked uneasily at her own dress in the mirror and then at Angie, thinking, _Cute shoes and veil, Angie...but where's the GOWN? No...I'm being too cruel...it's cute...but, God, is it short. And...my neckline covers enough...but is it too high? How would the Diana look on me?_

"Well?" said Monique, Angie's salesperson.

"I'll take it. Could you just wrap it up, please? He'll love it!"

"Of course," she said as she and the coordinator disappeared with Angie to begin consummating the purchase.

"Mom? What do YOU think?" asked Nova.

"It's darling, Nova...but..."

"Can you bring me the book, please?" asked Nova.

"Sure."

The salesgirl left, and Nova turned to her mother. "Angie doesn't have enough for her dress. I can help a little...but..."

"Nova...are you asking me to help your friend?"

"Yes. She's in love with that little dress."

"What's her fiancée like?"

"Crazy," giggled Nova. "And he'll just love it."

"Well...I can help..." said Teri, "But...you know we have to buy you your things, and get your bridesmaids their gowns...and they'll have to chip in something for them. If she can't chip in, I don't think she can be in the bridal party, Nova."

"That's okay," sighed Nova. "I'll put in a bit more for her. She has to leave that store in that dress."

"And what about you? We have to have it selected by today so we can get it to Boulder in time."

"Just a moment," said Nova as the other salesgirl came up. "I like this...but I think this'll be a nice design for my bridesmaids. I want something different, please. Something to set me apart. Something my fiancée will love."

"The Diana?" said the salesgirl as Teri's face dropped.

Nova nodded. "Let's just see how I look in that, first, of course," said Nova diplomatically with a glance towards her mother.

But, one look at the dress in the book had made up Nova's mind. She would literally look like a princess at her wedding, and she knew it.

* * *

VII. MR AND MRS. HARTCLIFFEEarthMegalopolisIdlewild Space Naval Air Station ChapelSaturday, December 12, 22011136 Hours-Spacetime

* * *

"Hardy?" murmured Derek Wildstar in the basement of the Base Chapel as the appointed hour approached.

"Yeah?"

"How do we ever get ourselves into these situations?"

"What situations?" asked Hardy as he and Wildstar stood near a punch table in which Nova, even in her pink knee-length dress, violet pumps, and corsage, was sprucing up on a last-minute basis by adding a few banana slices to the punch.

"Getting you, me, and Pulvan from our squadron to help out with Hartcliffe's wedding," said Derek as he stood there adjusting the high red collar on his short blue peacoat.

"Easy," said Hardy. "Nova asked you to accompany her as the Maid of Honor, which meant you had to be Hartcliffe's Best Man."

"Yeah," said Wildstar, who didn't sound all that enthusiastic or quite buy this. Derek thought, _Why couldn't Hartcliffe get his own best man?_

"What's wrong?" asked Nova as she pirouetted to face her fiancée in her heels.

"Nothing," smiled Derek sheepishly.

"I hope not," smiled Nova. "Especially since you'd better be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the _next_ wedding you attend, in just two weeks, sir. "

"If you think I'm not gonna be ready for that wedding, you, Miss Forrester, are dead wrong," grinned back Derek.

"Okay. But what's the problem here?" asked Nova.

"Well...it's just so...sudden. And I don't believe it."

"I believe it," said Nova. "And, well, they were in love, and they weren't going to let anything stand in their way. And I don't want anything disappointing Angie...like an inattentive honor guard," said Nova as she walked over to Pulvan.

"How come we didn't get swords?" he asked.

"It's not a full-dress ceremony, that's why," said Nova. "There's something in the regs that stipulates you have to have at least four groomsmen to have an arch of swords."

"You're just making that up, ma'am," said Pulvan.

"No, I'm not," said Nova. "I'm..."

"Da...what is WITH you, ma'am," asked Tatiana Lubyanska as she walked in wearing a green dress and open-toe pumps.

"What're YOU doing here?" asked Pulvan. "Hartcliffe tells me you HATE Angie!"

"Not since the other night. Working together reconciled us," said Tatiana. "Bozhe moi, it's chilly down here!"

"You're in pink. You're in green," said Hardy, who was relieved that Pulvan would be standing next to Tatiana during the ceremony. "Someone's in blue. Who's that?"

"Just me, sir," said Kristin Pawlings, a young blonde girl in a blue suit who was one of the pilot trainees in Wildstar's squadron.

"Oh. You're cute!" said Hardy with a smile.

"Thanks, but I'm taken," said Kristin as she twirled over, pointing out an engagement ring. "Walt and I are doing ours in June after he finishes his new tour of duty at Titan with the Green Hornets. Do you mind if I give you a note from someone, though?"

"Who?"

"An old friend of mine from school. I met her at the new Ministry of Science Survey School not long ago, and, well, she's heard all about you."

"She has? Who is she?"

"Can't give away the secret, can I?" smiled Kris. "She wants to have a blind date with you, next Wednesday night, at 1900. Meet her at these sealed coordinates. And if you don't meet her, she will hunt you down and kill you," grinned Kris.

"Okay," said Hardy. "I'll be theh." _Even though I have no idea who she is or what she looks like,_ he added to himself.

Before long, everyone was in their places in the sanctuary before a small altar. The Base Commander, Wildstar and Hardy's squadron, and one of Angie's uncles, along with her father, were the only ones in attendance, although Hartcliffe's parents and sister had sent their good wishes and some bouquets from Britain.

Nova and Derek stood right behind Bryan and Angie as they said their vows before the Base chaplain. As the ceremony went on, they found themselves holding hands surreptitiously.

"Nova?" whispered Derek.

"Yes?"

"You know...it's going to be our turn next."

"I know," whispered Nova, who went quiet as she heard Bryan repeat, "I do," in answer to the chaplain's classic questions.

"Do you, Angelique Burkhardt, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do," said Angie softly.

"Therefore, by the powers vested in me, I pronounce you both husband and wife. Let no man put asunder you, whom God hath put together. Mister Hartcliffe, you may now kiss your bride."

Everyone applauded as Hartcliffe winked lasciviously and planted his lips full on Angie's mouth, dipping her down in his arms as they kissed. Even Angie's father had a smile for the new couple then_. That fool pilot may be trashy, but he's certainly got some style about him,_ he thought as Bryan then gallantly helped Angie back upright and yelled, "This is me missus now! Don't any o' you ever forget it, GOT that?"

"We won't," said Pulvan with a laugh as the sun came through a stained-glass window and shone in his red hair.

During the small reception in the basement, there was some partying and merriment with punch and the like.

After having a dance with Angie, as tradition required, Wildstar went back to Nova and said, "There's one thing I've been wondering about, Nova."

"And that is?"

"I see Angie's father here...but, where's her mother?"

"Her mum was unable to come, sir," said Hartcliffe as he appeared behind them.

"Well, where is she?"

"She's in Central Hospital, Wildstar."

"I see."

"We were gonna go and see 'er after the reception, y'know...right before we go off to our motel for the night. We 'ave to, to tell 'er we've been married. You two wanna come?"

"Sure," said Nova after she glanced at Derek, who nodded. "We'd be honored. Did you tell your parents?"

"I did so this mornin'. Unfortunately, they don't 'ave the money to show up. Someday, I'm gonna take Angie back to Anglia to visit them so's we can have a proper introduction."

"That sounds very nice," said Nova.

"Hey...we have to do some things right," said Hartcliffe. "I'll see you in a few minutes, when we toss the garter and bouquet and stuff, all right?"

"Right," said Wildstar, who nodded a farewell to the groom as he left.

"I don't believe it," said Wildstar in a low voice as he shook his head. "He has a _decent _side."

"Everyone does, Derek," replied Nova softly in a gently chiding voice. "His was just buried pretty deep, I guess. That's all. I think marriage will change him...for the better."

"Could be," said Wildstar. "But, remember, he's still a fighter pilot. You know, pilots still have that edge, that drive..."

"And don't I know that," smiled Nova. "But, I've also noticed that responsibility makes some pilots...especially some I know very well, grow up quite a bit more."

"I know," smiled Derek, as he and Nova held hands for a moment.

"What's marriage going to do to this pilot?" whispered Nova in a soft voice.

"Well, I think we'll find out in about two weeks..." smiled Wildstar; right before they began to sneak a kiss.

"Scuse me... Wildstah..." called out another voice behind them as someone tapped them on the shoulder.

"Hardy! What's going on?" snapped Wildstar.

"Hey...you two have two weeks to wait," he chuckled.

"Very funny, Hardy. What's up?" asked Derek after he broke free from his clinch with Nova.

"It's about time to toss Angie's garter, and then to toss her bouquet. You comin?"

"I'll be on my way," said Wildstar.

A moment later, a giggling Angie was seated in a chair with her shoes off. Hartcliffe smooched her leg repeatedly as he pulled down the garter over her leg and foot, finally getting it off a moment later.

Wildstar, Hardy, Pulvan, and the rest of the males from the two squadrons were gathered together to attempt to catch it. Wildstar was embarrassed as he could possibly be about this, since he knew that he'd have to put the garter up the leg of the female who caught the bouquet if he got it. Nova had whispered to him that she was not terribly anxious for him to catch it, and would not be terribly thrilled if he caught it.

The garter was tossed, and after a scuffle, Hardy emerged with the garter. He and Hartcliffe embraced and laughed.

"You're gonna have some fun with that in a few minutes, sir!" called out Hartcliffe.

"Hope the one ah'll put this one is pretty!" cried Hardy.

"I hope it's not me," cried an unidentified female voice from Wildstar's squadron.

A minute or so later, Angie, now garter-less, stood before a group of about nine other females, ready to toss her bouquet. Hartcliffe spun her around a few times, and then, leaving her thoroughly disoriented, turned his giggling, still-barefoot bride around so that she wasn't even facing the laughing females in the other group, all of whom had removed their shoes so they wouldn't slip in the scuffle.

Angie whipped the bouquet over her right shoulder, and another scuffle took place. When it ended, a laughing and very embarrassed Nova emerged holding the bouquet.

"Congratulations," called out Tatiana Lubyanska. "You'll be getting married next."

"Yes, I know," said Nova, who thought, _right...as if everyone didn't know I'll be marrying Derek soon. They set me up for this!_

"C'mon, Nova," smiled Hardy. "Time for me to do my duty."

"Uh...couldn't you just give that to me...or let Derek do it?" stammered Nova.

"Yeah...that might be a good idea," said Wildstar.

"No...no way, sir," said Hartcliffe, who came up smiling with Angie. "We've got to do this. Otherwise...her dad might kill me..."

"He wouldn't!" cried Angie.

"Hey...how do I know that?"

"All right," said Nova primly. "I'll do it...but I'm keeping my eyes closed the whole time!"

"Good. That means ah can tickle you a little, Miss Forrester," chuckled Hardy.

"If you do, I'll _kick_ you," said Nova. "Even in stocking feet, it won't feel nice."

"Let's just do it, all raight?" said Hardy.

"All right," scowled Wildstar. "That's provided you let me hold her hand throughout," he said as he pulled up a chair for Nova.

"Derek...you're not...going along with this...?"

"Nova, the sooner we get it done, the sooner it'll be over with."

With her right foot up on the chair, Hardy got the garter up Nova's leg a moment later as Nova began to smile a little, thinking, _Well, at least, in two weeks, Derek will get to do this...to me...if I can't talk Mom out of it, that is_...

As soon as the garter went on, Nova got her foot back on the ground and into her shoe (with Derek's help). Afterwards, Hartcliffe called out, "Well...we've done it! Thank you, all, for your cooperation and attention! Now, if you'll let us alone..."

At that, he picked up Angie and kissed her like a maniac to a lot of cheers and applause as they ran out.

A while later, Angie and Bryan (still in their wedding clothes) were walking down a corridor in Central Hospital along with Captain Burkhardt, Derek, and Nova.

This isn't far from Venture's room, thought Wildstar as they entered a small private room.

There, amongst a few bouquets and many machines, lay a very thin, dark-haired woman who was roughly middle-aged.

"Hello, Victoria," said Joe Burkhardt in a gentle, calm voice.

"Oh...hello, Joseph," whispered the ill Victoria softly as she sat up weakly to kiss her husband. Unable to do so, Joseph bent down to kiss her and then tenderly worked a button on the bed so that it would come up to his level.

A tear ran down Angie's cheek as she looked on. "Mom?" she said softly. "I'm in my wedding dress. How do you like it?"

"It's very pretty," whispered Victoria softly. "Did you bring that nice, kind Bryan with you?"

"I'm 'ere, Mrs. Burkhardt," said Hartcliffe respectfully. "This man over 'ere my flight instructor, Lieutenant Commander Derek Wildstar. The young lady next to him is his fiancée and Angie's friend , Lieutenant Nova Forrester."

"Weren't you two with the Star Force," whispered Victoria.

"We were," said Wildstar softly.

"I see. Now, everyone," she said, looking around the room with her dark eyes, "..Let's be honest. I've had the space radiation sickness for a while, the same thing that your Captain Avatar had. I've been in remission, but the way things are going, I think I'm going to be leaving you and saying hello to your old Captain soon. I want you to swear to me that you'll take good care of my Angelique, Bryan. Will you?"

"I will," said Hartcliffe as a tear ran out of his eye.

"And will you do a good job as the next Captain of the _Argo, _Wildstar?"

"I haven't been formally appointed yet..."

"You will be. Something inside is telling me you will be," said Victoria Burkhardt. "You are to do everything that you can for us. And, Joseph...you know I'll be leaving you soon. Don't sit around too long crying for me...any of you. Just do your jobs. That's all I ask. Thanks for coming, Angie, Bryan, Derek...Nova. Would you leave me alone with Joseph, please?"

"Of course," said Derek softly as he nodded to Hartcliffe. Even though Nova's cheeks were wet with tears, she gently put her arms around a stricken Angie's waist, and gently turned her away from the bed.

"I didn't...I didn't...know it was that bad," sobbed Angie as they came out into the corridor. "I didn't know she was going to die, soon! I_ didn't!_" sobbed Angie.

"It's all right," whispered Bryan tenderly.

"But it's my fault!" said Angie. "She wasn't that bad before we..."

"Are you Miss Burkhardt?" asked a young woman in a long lab coat who came up.

"I am," nodded Angie.

"I'm Doctor Connelly," she said. "If I may speak to you and...your significant other privately, I'd like to let you know the specifics of your mother's condition. As I was about to tell your father, there's still a chance, if we operate aggressively and quickly...if you'd come with me, we can discuss this further..."

After they left Derek and Nova alone, Wildstar said, "Venture's still on this floor, isn't he?"

"He is," said Nova. "Or, at least, he was..." she said.

"Well...let's go and see him."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Derek. When I was last here, three days ago, he was still in a coma. Doctor Sane said he might never come out of it!"

"Well...at least we can say hello to him," said Wildstar.The young couple timidly stepped into Mark's semi-darkened room a few minutes later, where they had one of the biggest shocks of their lives.

Most of the machines that had been connected to Venture were gone now; there was only a single IV. To their surprise, the bed rails were down, and Venture was sitting up, quietly reading a book.

"MARK!" cried Nova.

"Venture!" called out Wildstar.

"I was wondering when you guys would get here," said Venture in his clear, unmistakable upper New York State accent.

"So you're all right, then?" asked Nova.

"Except for a few aches and pains...yes, my body's fine...but, deep within me, there's a wound that I'm not sure will ever heal. Trelaina had so much power. Why couldn't she have stayed?"

"She said she couldn't stay," said Wildstar as Nova shut the door. "But, she said a part of her would always be with all of us..."

"I know. And that's what hurts so much," said Venture. "You see, part of me can sense Trelaina. When I was in my trance...she told me, over and over again that she would have to go. She said, and I can remember this, "_Mark, I must go. I wish I could remain, but I can't. Your friends will tell you why I had to leave you, and why I had to go..._"

"Derek," said Nova softly. "...The last thing Trelaina said...before she left..."

"_Tell Mark how much I love him_," whispered Wildstar as he remembered.

"Why did she leave?" asked Venture. "I know she left me with you...but, what happened after that?"

"She sacrificed herself again, like at Telezart," said Derek as Nova began to sob softly. "She did it to destroy a huge space battleship that emerged from the ruins of the Comet Empire City after we blasted it apart, with the aid of advice from Captain Gideon and Desslok."

"Desslok?" muttered Venture. "The last I remember, Desslok and his forces were trying to blow the _Argo _into scrap metal! What did that guy do?"

"The battle ended when Desslok decided to make peace with us after I confronted him and collapsed with only Nova to defend me. From what I've been told, Desslok just stopped fighting when Nova confronted him."

"He did," said Nova. "He said that his love for Gamilon wasn't all that much unlike our love for Earth, and our love for each other. He said he was fighting on after Gamilon had been lost because he felt he had to do everything he could to defend Gamilon. He said that since he saw that we were of the same sort, fighting for Earth after all seemed lost in the same way he fought on for Gamilon after all seemed lost...and since Derek and I had and have a love for each other that remained intact even while we fought for Earth, we were better than he was, and he could've done things differently. I think he...had some regret in his heart for continuing to go after us for revenge at that point."

"Desslok felt regret? That's a new one, Nova," said Venture.

"It's hard to believe, but it happened," said Wildstar. " At any rate, he said the war between Earth and Gamilon was over, and he made peace with us, gave us some advice on how to defeat the Comet Empire city, and he left us in peace and left with his entire space fleet."

"Later," continued Nova, " we that found his advice on how to attack the Comet Empire, at its weak spot at the bottom, in the same way that we attacked his weak spot on Gamilon, at the bottom of the volcanoes, was correct. We did so, after we attacked the Comet Empire after it landed on Earth, and Derek and the others boarded the Comet Empire at that weak spot, a hatch it its bottom. Sergeant Knox then planted charges in the Comet Empire City's energy center to shut down its defenses. He remained behind to set them off while Derek, Sandor, and some of the others got out. Knox got out just ahead of the explosions that destroyed the Comet Empire City, but when he landed on the _Argo,_ it turned out he was mortally wounded from some of the shrapnel. He died a few minutes after he got back to the ship."

"Then?"

"Then, we attacked the Comet Empire City with the _Argo's_ main guns and all her missiles," said Wildstar. " We reduced it to an immobile, flaming wreck, but a huge black space battleship emerged from the ruins of the citadel," said Wildstar. "It turned out Zordar was still on that ship; he called us up to mock us after he had almost reduced the_ Argo _to scrap. After he attacked us, he began to bombard Earth with its main siege cannon. I ordered all hands to abandon ship. My plan was to ram Zordar's ship with the _Argo,_ with the hopes of getting off the _Argo_ in an escape pod before the crash. Everyone left except Nova, who remained behind. When I found her on the ship, she said she was remaining behind to help me because of her great love for me. I proposed to her then and there, and she accepted. It was right before we were to leave the bridge that Trelaina appeared with you in her arms. She said...she was bringing you back because you still had work to perform with the Star Force once you got well. Then, she disappeared; to fight Zordar for the last time."

"That's how she died; in a flash of light that took Zordar and his evil with her," sobbed Nova, who began to cry. Derek comforted her as Mark shut his eyes, trying to hide the tears.

"Maybe she didn't die..." suggested Venture.

"Maybe yes, maybe no," said Wildstar. "She said, "It is time for me to go...and she left."

"I thought maybe...she couldn't die," said Venture, "...but, maybe she didn't. Maybe...she left. I'm remembering, now," said Venture. "She said..._I cannot go with you, my darling, but our love will always be.._." said Venture in a choked-up voice.

"When did...she tell you that...?" asked Nova.

"I'm not sure...I think I dreamed it...or did I? I heard her say that to me...in a state, and in a time, where I was between this life...and the next. After that, we were together in body; I think, and then in spirit. Then, she told me, one last time, she would have to go, and then, I found myself in this bed. I was with her; we shared our love; but, she sent me back. Back to Earth. Back to this. Back to...being alone."

"Tell me," asked Venture. "How long has it been?"

"The end of Zordar was near noon on the fifteenth of November; it's now the twelfth of December in the same year," said Derek.

"It's been...twenty-seven days since then," said Nova. "Almost a month."

"No, I mean...how long has it been since I was...last with you?"

"We made our first warp to attack the Comet Empire City around 0700 standard spacetime on the fourteenth. After we arrived, Desslok showed up. At about 0920, that day, give or take a few minutes, the first parties were boarding his flagship," said Wildstar.

"It was around then that I was shot," said Venture. "So I've been away from you guys, and more or less with Trelaina for almost a month. Or my mind's been with Trelaina. It was very hard to tell. Most of the time, I was conscious of being with her, but sometimes I'd wake up and find myself here, with a lot of machines around me. Then, I thought I was having nightmares. Trelaina eventually told me otherwise. Almost a month, " said Venture sleepily. "What's happened to the Star Force?"

"We've been split up, but only temporarily," said Wildstar. "The _Argo's_ still in the repair dock, being rebuilt. Sergeant Knox and Corporal Cain died in the boarding of the Comet Empire City, along with most of the other Space Marines who didn't die boarding Desslok's ship. Conroy, Hardy, and a very flew of the other Black Tigers lived; most of them died too. All in all, maybe thirty members of the Star Force survived," said Wildstar. "Many of them were wounded, but most of them are out of the hospital now. You'll be one of the last to leave."

"What does Earth think of what we did?" asked Venture.

"Look on your bedtable," said Nova. "They gave you another Sunburst, and many other decorations. Also, you'll have a house waiting for you when you come out, courtesy of the Earth Government. Your father has the deed and the keys."

"Who else got homes?" asked Venture.

"Us, Sandor, Conroy, and Hardy," said Wildstar.

"Are you in your homes yet?" asked Venture.

"Sandor just moved into his place; they just finished it," said Nova. "Yours should be ready in the week, and as for my place and Derek's it'll be done late in the week, but we won't be moving in until after the wedding, of course."

"When are you getting married?"

"The day after Christmas," said Wildstar. "It's a Saturday. I was wondering, Mark. Would you be my best man?"

"Of course, Wildstar," said Venture softly. "Nova, Derek, you know I always wanted the best for you two. Congratulations. It's about time!"

"Thanks," said Wildstar and Nova softly blushed.

Nova turned her head at the sound of the door opening. In walked Doctor Sane. "Wildstar, Nova," he barked. "What are you doing disturbing my patient? He needs rest!"

"We're sorry, Doctor," said Derek.

"Doc, when are you letting me out of here?" asked Venture.

"In two more days. I want to be sure you're not going to have a relapse and that you're not going back to...wherever you just were."

"I won't be going back there, at least not for a very long time," said Venture. "Trelaina...told me that."

"She did, hmmm?" asked Doctor Sane.

"She did," said Venture.

"That's good. IQ-9, bring me that thermometer now!" barked Doctor Sane through the open door.

"Coming," said the robot's familiar high metallic voice from down the corridor. "I've got it, I've got it...I've...Nova, I've got to ask you something, before the wedding..."

"What?" snapped Nova.

IQ whispered something into Nova's ear as she bent down. Her face went white and she slapped him hard before getting up.

"NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!" snapped Nova. "And, if either of you two laugh again, you're both going to pay for it!" snapped Nova as she glared at both Derek and Mark.

At that, they looked at each other again, and then looked at Nova, and they just smirked.

Well, I think things are almost back to normal again, thought Wildstar. _Mark, it's great to have you back..._

, thought Wildstar.

* * *

VIII. THE ENEMY REVEALED

Planet Garalenda

The Edge of the Milky Way

December 12, 2201

1310 Hours-Spacetime

"Sire," said Talan, who stood near Desslok at the entryway to a huge dock on the Gamilon Base on Garalenda along with General Rikus Krannen, who was a rather majestic-looking grey-bearded Gamilon officer with a monocle, mustache, and small beard, and General Hairm Kelzart, a dark-haired, mustachioed officer from one of the outer Territorial Fleets of the Empire who had recently arrived here at Garalenda, "may we again present to you Captain Vorkil and the _Gamilstadt?_"

Desslok accepted the salute of the brown-armored Captain of his former flagship who had served under both him and Talan. Then, he strode up to Desslok, and said, "Sire, it is my pleasure to report to you that the _Gamilstadt _is repaired. All of the engine damage has been repaired. She is again ready for space trials, sir."

"I commend you," said Desslok. "How were you able to repair her so quickly?"

"Sire, we found supplies here for four other vessels in various stages of construction. We commandeered all of these supplies and we diverted them towards the refit of your flagship. Incidentally, the static power-test readings indicate that we have improved her speed by a factor of two space knots' increase, and that we have increased the firing range of her Desslok Surge Cannon by a factor of a five percent increase. The technicians and scientists here at Garalenda are very dedicated, sir. They have not only repaired the work of our former allies, the Cometines, they have in fact improved upon it, my Lord."

"Excellent," said Talan. "Leader Desslok, shall I conduct the trials?"

"No. I shall. You will accompany me, Talan. Kelzart, you will assume command of the _Eliasite_, my former flagship, and Krannen, you will assume command of the battleship _Paravenia. _You will escort me along with twelve destroyers while we conduct this exercise. General Felkner," said Desslok to another officer who stood nearby, "you will assume command of the Base in my absence. Keep all of the pickets in communication with my ship."

"Yessir," said Felkner. Desslok then nodded to Talan and began to stride back aboard his flagship for the first time since his last battle with the Star Force.

When entering the ship, Desslok and his staff passed rank after rank of crewmen standing along the passages chanting his name while they held salutes in the Gamilon fashion. Desslok returned each salute with a nod, basking in the devotion of his new crew as he walked back up to his bridge, which, like the rest of the command cruiser, was now fully repaired.

Here, he thought, _I plotted the end of my revenge on the Star Force. And, here is where I saw that the need for revenge had ended. Now, I embark upon a new journey, a new quest, possibly even a new war against new foes. Who knows what the future will bring us? One thing is certain, as long as I live, Gamilon lives on..._

he thought, 

Behind Desslok came Talan, Vorkil, and the other faithful members of his Imperial flagship's staff who had survived their last battle with the Star Force. Desslok was aware that some officers had died, but, as he had chosen their replacements, he knew that the crew of his command ship would be just as efficient and well-drilled as it had always been.

"We are ready for launch, sir," said Vorkil in his heavily accented but familiar voice.

Desslok nodded once. That was all the go-ahead they needed. Still, as per form, Talan glanced at Vorkil and said, "Leader Desslok has ordered an immediate takeoff. You know what to do, Captain."

"Yessir. All hands, prepare for liftoff on my mark," barked Vorkil into his communicator at his station.

Life returned to the _Gamilstadt's _engines a moment later as the ship thrust its way up off the pad and accelerated off towards space, followed by the rest of the Fleet that Desslok had dispatched.

In space, around the vicinity of Garalenda, the fleet roared on in formation, with the flagship in the lead, escorted by two destroyers on her aft flanks. Desslok stood near the rebuilt controls of his Desslok cannon, smiling smugly as routine reports came in from station after station on the rebuilt Imperial Flagship.

"It's going well, Leader Desslok," said Talan with an equally pleased smile.

"Yes. Perhaps this will be easier than I thought," said Desslok. "It will take a while, but don't you think we can reassert ourselves over our old foes in the Great Magellenic Cloud, if needed, with such a well-trained crew? It's about time that we began to think of rebuilding our old domain, Talan. Our task of finding a suitable permanent home will be much easier with a crew as well-disciplined as this, won't it?"

"It will, sir."

"If only...I knew the precise nature of those Cometines who were bedeviling us," said Desslok as he relaxed a little, sitting back down at his command seat.

"Sir, we have spotted eight objects approaching the fleet, at a distance of fifteen hundred _gerads_."

"What is it, Vorkil?" asked Desslok as he tensed at his seat.

"We will have a visual momentarily, sir, but they're..."

Suddenly, a number of orange beams of energy whizzed past the _Gamilstadt. _Desslok gritted his teeth as he caught a flash off the port side aft from a minor hit against one of his destroyers, which was returning fire, along with its mate to the starboard side.

Within moments, the mid-range guns and missiles were firing on the _Gamilstadt _itself as an image came up on the ship's screen; the eight vessels consisted of two squadrons of Cometine battleships, each escorted by one destroyer. The battleships, unlike those Desslok had seen before, were a light grey color, and the destroyers were white on top and grey on the bottom, as opposed to the white and green coloration standard to the Cometine ships of Zordar's house.

However, these were Cometine vessels... that much was for certain.

"All ships, meet their attack!" snapped Desslok. "Talan! Order Kelzart to launch a squadron of precision bombers! I want one of those ships disabled and captured! As for the rest...I don't want to see any more of them!"

"Yessir," said Talan.

Soon, escorted by its destroyers and the _Paravenia,_ the _Gamilstadt _and the _Paravenia _fired one after the other, blasting apart the destroyers and one of the advancing Cometine space battleships. In the meantime, the _Eliasite _launched its planes.

On the _Gamilstadt,_ Desslok watched on the large round deck-mounted tactical screen with grim satisfaction as one of the attacking Cometine battleships fell back, apparently lining up for a massive barrage.

"We'll hit him with an attack from an unexpected corridor before he can fire, sir," said Talan as the_ Gamilstadt_ pulled back a little as the Gamilon destroyers and the _Paravenia _made short work of the remaining Cometine destroyer. "We're in position now, sir, and so are Kelzart's planes."

"Good," said Desslok. "Now. Activate SMITE!"

A mere moment later, the SMITE projectors on both sides of the _Gamilstadt's _bow were activated, and the Gamilons' ingenious Space Instantaneous Matter Transport Equipment fields were dematerializing the squadron of precision bombers into hyperspace, to reappear a moment later behind the sterns of two of the Cometine space battleships.

An instant later, the Gamilon planes were streaking down upon their surprised enemies, who fired at them with everything they had. However, despite their best efforts, several of the bombs and missiles got through, and one of the space battleships was forced to reduce its speed as its destroyer escort was blown apart relentlessly by the Gamilon pilots. The other, defended by its escort destroyer, managed to evade the enemy fire unscathed, but it was soon surprised by another wave of Gamilon planes that appeared right on top of it.

"Perdition take them!" hissed the Cometine Fleet Commander as he stood watching the carnage with his teeth gritted and his eyes screwed up into mere slits. "How are those devils doing that?"

"The Gamilon SMITE projectors, sir," said a blue-uniformed Cometine officer near his grey-clad commanding officer. "We had researched them, General Varlan, but we never expected that they would have their flagship..."

"Perdition take your excuses, Janklin! It is our sacred duty to damage those traitors before we retreat, or face Gernitz's wrath. Order the _Jelicron _to step up the attack while we retreat to a more tenable position."

"We aren't attacking to the death, sir?" asked Janklin.

"No, Captain. Gernitz's orders to me were merely to probe the Gamilons' defenses here as a preliminary to our main attack, just as Naska will soon be doing near Earth. We will put up a good fight and withdraw. Gernitz will need to send more against this lot than we thought. Desslok is, as you can see, a most ruthless and devious man. Had he not impugned his honor by turning against the hero Zordar, he would serve as an excellent ally in our fight to gain the secrets of how the Earth was healed. Order the _Marikon _to cover our right flank, and..."

A great flash of light came through the bridge windows of Varlan's flagship, the _Jedigas, _as the _Paravenia's _guns drilled a merciless barrage into the Cometine battleship at the flagship's flank.

"Sir, the _Marikon_ has just been destroyed!"

"Curse this! Half my fleet gone, and we only got two of their destroyers! Another moment, and you will order the _Jelicron _to guard our stern while we..."

A massive explosion on Varlan's ship made his teeth rattle.

"Sir!" cried another officer. "They've hit our escort destroyer!

"Those planes will be after us! What should we do?"

"Break off the attack! General withdrawal! This is enough! Warp back to location X-3 at once!"

"Yessir," said another officer. "SIR!" barked the comm officer. "The _Jelicron _says it can't follow! Its engine has been damaged and they're repelling boarders!"

"Order them to fight on and destroy any and all information covering our advance, and then to advance to death's embrace by engaging its self-destruct mechanisms," said Varlan.

"Order transmitted...and acknowledged," said the comm officer as more Gamilon planes appeared to rake the main deck of the Cometine battleship.

"WARP!"

The_ Jedigas_ warped away, leaving the _Jelicron _alone as the _Gamilstadt _roared up towards it.

On the Cometine warship _Jelicron, _pandemonium reigned as a third, and then a fourth boarding pod rammed in from the nearby _Paravenia. _Gamilon troops swarmed aboard the battleship heralded by an evil haze of greenish-purple radioactive gas recently formulated by Desslok so as to have an especially debilitating and eventually lethal effect upon Cometines in particular. It was a more devilish version of the same gas used by Desslok against the Star Force in 2200 when he had first boarded the _Argo._

Cometine troops, when they weren't choking, were snarling with hate against their enemies as pitched gun battles took place in passage after passage on the embattled _Jelicron. _The Gamilons soon noticed that the most relentless of the defenders were also armored, clad in black battle armor trimmed with maroon of a type they had never seen before. Those troopers were the ones who offered the most resistance against the Gamilons as the grim, brown -armored invaders fought against their former Cometine allies with a ferocity born out of the betrayal of their race and the Leader under the scheming of Princess Invidia. The fact that her schemes had not been stopped sooner by Zordar had tended to damn all Cometines in Gamilon eyes, and now this renewed aggression only made it even worse.

On top of this, many Gamilons looked beyond the bare fact that Desslok had ordered an end against the war with Earth to realize that they now had a sneaking admiration for their one-time Terran enemies for the mere fact that they had taught the arrogant Cometines a thing or two on their own.

All of these thoughts made the pitched battles between the Gamilons and Cometines especially fierce, especially as it was now more evident than ever that Gamilon's alliance with the Comet Empire was now just as dead as Prince Zordar.

A while later, the surviving Cometines retreated towards the bridge, even as the bridge crew was busy shooting out every console they could reach as they sought to carry out Varlan's final orders.

"That's it now," said Captain Velitz, the _Jelicron's _skipper. "Now, with this charge, I'll kill myself a moment after I activate the sequence to destroy the ship."

A number of laser bolts blasted against the sealed hatchway, heating the hatch from the other side for a bit before it blew in from a well-placed demolition charge.

A howl of anger roared across the bridge as shot after shot came through the door. Gamilon troops were running in through the smoke and gas, and, where they were missing, the gas was taking its effect upon the bridge crew of the battleship before they could seal their helmet faceplates.

"Stop! STOP!" snapped Velitz as he stood with his hands on the controls as five Gamilons advanced upon him, with a sixth, extremely tall Gamilon standing behind them. He wore an especially elaborate black cloak, and his helmet had a high, shiny black crest on it.

"Why should we stop, I ask?" said a mellifluous, respectful voice from behind the mask of the tall Gamilon's helmet.

"Because my hands are on the self-destruct device. When I activate this, I could blow us all to the next world in moments! I'm not afraid to go, but I don't know about you!"

"You're confident, even though you sound like a fool since you evidently don't know that my men have already delinked the self-destruct circuits from your reactor. It's amusing, really, that we know more about your ships than _you _do. Where's the Captain of this vessel?"

"Why do you want the Captain? Is it important?"

"Yes it is," said the tall Gamilon patiently through his mask. "I'd like to receive his _surrender_," he sneered.

"Very well...I'm...I'm Captain Velitz, commander of the glorious Cometine Free House space battleship _Jelicron. _I am just a small cog in the great machine under which our House will unite and purge the whole Empire! Who are you, Gamilon?"

"Who are you, Gamilon?" repeated the tall Gamilon mockingly. "Ah. I _am _Gamilon!" At that, the leader of the boarding party lifted his visor and undid his mask. "I am Desslok, supreme Leader of the Gamilons, and I think this conversation has gone on quite long enough, Captain Velitz. You have much to atone for!"

"Stay back! I'll blow you up, Desslok! I'll..."

Desslok rapidly drew his pistol and pumped three shots into Velitz's shoulder.

As Velitz fell screaming to the deck, his men scattered, but were subdued by the Gamilons and frog-marched off the bridge. Desslok stood smiling as the smoke curled up from his weapon. "As you have just observed, I always have the last laugh, Velitz. Your surrender is graciously accepted. Talan, see to it that he's taken back to the flagship for inventory, treatment, and interrogation."

"Yessir," said Talan as he clapped his hands once and two Gamilon troopers dragged Velitz away under his arms. "I presume you'll soon follow?"

"I'll be along shortly," said Desslok as he took off his helmet and set it on a console as if he was sitting down in a lounge in his palace. "Post a guard, if you please. I'd like to look into their communications records personally and figure out whom they were calling last. As Zordar gave me many of the Empire's most confidential codes, I'll find it simple to break into the system so I can find out why these barbarians are attacking us. When we talk with Velitz, I can ascertain the rest."

"Yessir," said Talan. "Troopers, guard Leader Desslok. Leave your posts only when ordered."

"As you command, sir," said one trooper as he ordered the others to stand near their Leader with their weapons at the ready in the unlikely event there was any more resistance.

Now, thought Desslok. _Since I know that these fanatics are claiming to be a House, let's see if their records carry any sort of Imperial Warrant that may have created them as a House after Zordar's death. Perhaps they are a House, but, perhaps they are simply renegades. For the sake of our security, I'd better ascertain the truth..._

thought Desslok. 

Later, Desslok sat with Talan aboard the _Gamilstadt. _On one table, he had some of his favorite wine, while on another table, he had a number of datapacs copied from the communications computer of the Cometine battleship, which had been taken back to Garalenda Base under tow. The ship was now being examined by Gamilon technicians in the hope that useful data or salvageable materials might be found.

"Sir, as you requested, the ship is being analyzed."

"I thank you, Talan. However, I believe that I have the most essential information right here," said Desslok as he patted the datapacs.

"Leader Desslok," called out an aide from outside.

"Enter."

The grey-uniformed aide came in at Desslok's request, carrying a binder of information. "A hard-copy printout of those datapacs, as requested, sir."

"Thank you. This is satisfactory," said Desslok as he looked over the packet. "You may leave."

"As you wish, sir," said the aide as he saluted and left.

"What did the information tell us, Leader Desslok?" asked Talan.

"I read over much of this on the ship. This is for my personal records," said Desslok. "According to this information, as we know, a General Gernitz was banished from Zordar's main advance fleet command two Cometine years ago and reassigned to the Betralnka quadrant of the Black Fox Nebula, ostensibly to guard strategic resources, or so the official records say. Zordar told me face to face that the reason he did it was to get rid of an influence that was ruining the efficiency of his Fleet. Gernitz was an effective commander, but he was also a bloodthirsty madman who sought to torture and exterminate planetary populations that Zordar found useful. For this breach, he was reassigned, but given occasional access to the Gatlantis City for state visits."

"At about the time I was found by Zordar's forces, and while I was reviving, I understand you were summoned to my side."

"That's right, Leader Desslok. Zordar summoned us with the news that you were alive. We were overjoyed."

"You had good reason to be, but this joy would have turned to sorrow if Gernitz's plot had succeeded. It appears that Gernitz, or some of his followers, even Zordar's secret police could never ascertain who, sought to have me dealt with while I was recovering because they felt that I would serve as a useful source of information for the secret of how Earth was healed in one year after we had bombed it. The attempt was foiled in time. The fanatics themselves were quietly executed by Dyre on Zordar's orders, while Zordar himself refused to touch Gernitz, because he wanted to see if Gernitz's influence extended anywhere else within his House. As he couldn't find anything, Gernitz was called to his court and permanently banished from Gatlantis, forbidden ever to set foot in the City again under pain of death for the crime, which Zordar learned, of exterminating a planetary population of a low level because he wanted to wipe out a race that had offended him, even at the expense of ruining the planet. However, Zordar still found Gernitz useful. He assigned him again to the Alarandis Corridor of the Black Fox Nebula like a chained hound and forgot about him."

"But now...?"

"Gernitz has made sure he is not forgotten. He has petitioned the Emperor for the right to have his sect recognized as a House. That warrant has been partly granted, on the condition that he must swear fealty to any surviving appropriate titled members of Zordar's House, if they still exist and can still be found."

"Are there any?"

"No. Zordar had many children. The only one with a legitimate title, however, was Invidia. I think you know what happened to her. There was talk of an adoption in my favor by Zordar, but he was never able to go through with it, and not even I can fake a claim to his House, nor do I care to, since I am the absolute ruler of our domains by natural right. "

"So, in effect..."

"Gernitz is now his own House, with the right to conquest of any one of Zordar's domains. And, he must be stopped, as you know, before he goes on his quest to discover how and why Earth was Terraformed so quickly. And, you know where he will go to take that information."

"Earth, sire," said Talan with a heavy heart. "Again, Earth," he sighed. Must we involve themselves with Earth again?"

"Not immediately. It is our task to rebuild. But, we must be vigilant, and not only for sentimental reasons," said Desslok. "Have a look at this graphic," said Desslok as he flicked on a screen. "This is our position. If Earth were to be taken by Gernitz's House, it would be most likely enslaved, with all likelihood, because of its current weakened state. Then, the location of Iscandar and the secrets of the Cosmo-DNA machine fall into the hands of an utter maniac, and, even worse, we would have a new Cometine stronghold at our backside like a dagger, just as we are attempting to rebuild. I cannot permit this, Talan."

"Then we're to head to Earth?"

"Not yet. At this point the data became garbled, but I did ascertain that Gernitz is now working out of one of the conquered Milky Way "X" series base worlds taken by Zordar's advance forces. That means that substantial elements of the enemy's forces are holed up either at Sirius or Procyon. Before sending any type of warning to Earth, we must conduct reconnaissance sweeps to place our probes at both Sirius and Procyon to monitor the enemy's activities, and we'll also need more ships if we are to launch an expeditionary mission into the Sol System to personally warn Earth of the threat. I'd send a transmission, but I'm not sure they'd believe me, and I'm not entirely sure that our friends wouldn't jam it, either."

Desslok sipped at his wine for a moment before continuing. "For maximum effect, I'd prefer to direct such a message to Wildstar. Talan, how quickly can you send another general call to the Far Territories without giving away our intentions?"

"As soon as we're linked back into the surviving portions of the Far Territorial relay satellite network, provided, of course, that the Cometines didn't rip it down," said Talan.

"You will do so quickly," said Desslok. "And, when we have enough forces, a garrison fleet will be sent towards the Sanzar System...to keep tabs on Iscandar."

"You said that you didn't think they'd be attacked, yet, sir," said Talan.

"Yes, but I want to be prepared in the unlikely event that happens. As for Earth, I want to be certain and ready before we head there. Is that understood, Talan?"

"Yessir," said Talan.

"Excellent. Please see to it that my orders are carried out."

Talan stood, saluted, and then walked away with a bow.

I have been idle too long, thought Desslok. _So this is what my quest for vengeance against Wildstar earned me...a dagger in my back that I should have been watching for all along. I can never let such mad quests for vengeance cloud my judgment again! And to think I brought part of this danger on myself by weakening the Star Force. Destiny has a rather interesting means of teaching me lessons of this type! Now, to be safe, I must safeguard the world and the people I once hated. But are we too late? Are we too late? I pray not...yet I cannot be clouded by my emotions again, not when the destiny and freedom of my people are at stake. Act too soon, and I move before all the pieces are set. But, act too late, and I am blocked before I can make my move. What a bitter irony this is..._

thought Desslok. **

* * *

**

**IX. EXERCISE: CODE NAME VALIANT DEFENDER**

**Earth Megalopolis Idlewild Space Naval Air Station**

**Rampway 502**

**Monday, December 21, 2201**

**0830 Hours-Spacetime**

**

* * *

**

"At ease!" snapped Wildstar as he stood before the assembled members of the his training squadron as well as the one which Hardy had been training. Hardy stood beside him to his right. "If you wonder why all of you have been gathered here this morning, along with your gunners and RSO's in the case of Hardy's squadron, we are here to inform you that it is to complete the final exercise of your flight training. This is an exercise in which the two of you will be acting in opposition to each other while flying for one last time, under conditions as realistic as we can make them, as squadron mates in an attack and defense situation."

"Here is the tactical situation. Our squadron will fly from here to Lowry Defense Force Base, near the Denver Megalopolis. You will have been ordered to fly there at short notice to serve on a short-term assignment as interceptor pilots protecting that base in a wartime situation. Recently, enemy fleets from space from a rebel splinter element of the Defense Forces have been reconnoitering the planet to gain information for an attack, and to also, incidentally, perhaps pick off a few of you Super Starfighter pilots because they know that we are flying the hottest bird around!"

At that, Laurel Hartmann, Hartcliffe, Pulvan, and all of the other members of Wildstar's squadron cheered, accompanied in counterpoint by boos and hisses from Hardy's squadron. Wildstar gave Hardy a dirty look when he realized that Jeff was encouraging some of the by-play by his silent grin.

"And, as you know, that's the enemy!" snapped Wildstar. "It'll be your job to keep as many as possible of those rebels away from Lowry Base so that they don't get in there to snoop, cause collateral damage, or even, God forbid, bomb Denver or Boulder. Do you understand our mission, ladies and gentlemen?"

"YESSIR!" they yelled.

"All right, now, we'll stand back and let you hear the enemy."

As Wildstar's squadron hissed, Hardy addressed his squadron. "Y' know, those all lies. Nuthin' BUT lies! The so-called loyalists over theah are nuthin' but a bunch of fanatics led by a curtain general who took over the Earth guv'mint who shall remain nameless. This general wants to wipe out our spirit, and wipe out our liberty! He's a scheming dictator who got ninety-nine point nine percent of our forces on his side. But yew, mah comrades, yew are the true defenduhs of freedom. You'd be flyin' forth from the _Argo_ as brave members of the Star Force, if the _Argo, _that is, hadn't been taken over by the loyalists. Instead, we've commandeered the new _Andromeda _and we're flyin' forth from that ship to defend our cause. We know they've taken over Lowry, and we're the vanguard of a force that's gonna take IT and Denver AND Boulder back!"

At that, a loud cheer went up. Wildstar groaned to himself, aware that Nova was doing a very good job of playing cheerleader along with Hardy. _Well, she's doing what she's supposed to be doing,. _he thought. _Hardy's made her a flight leader and XO of the Squadron! Funny, isn't it, when your own fiancée is on the wrong side again. Where did Priceman get THIS idea from...including this joint pep talk?_

"So, you know what we've gotta do!" said Hardy. "We've gotta flush them rats out! They've got people in Denver, we understand, that are goin' through houses in the same way that the Yankees went through Georgia under Sherman! Now's the time for us to make OUR STAND!"

Then, Wildstar shook his head with disbelief as Hardy led everyone in a Rebel Yell! To his delight, at least his own squadron had the good grace to boo.

"So, we know what we've gotta do..." said Hardy.

"And you know what we've gotta do!" barked Wildstar.

"WIN!" both of them yelled.

A loud and long burst of applause went up.

"Well, what do you think?" asked Hardy as he and Wildstar broke the formations up so that everyone could man their planes.

"I think that the idea of talking to both of them at once was nutty," said Wildstar.

"Yeah, but we got to brief 'em in private before we met for the big pow-wow," said Hardy. "And, see how worked up they are? They're gonna win today. They've all got that killer spirit we want to build up."

"Yeah, I can see that," said Wildstar.

"But what?" asked Hardy.

"I hope we didn't work them up too much," said Wildstar. "If they're too worked up, they could make mistakes..."

"Wildstar, I don't believe this," said Hardy. "How many times have you stood there and worked us up on the _Argo, _especially when it counted?"

"Well...lots of times, but..."

"We need that _espirit_, Wildstah! And we've got it. This is the one time everyone here will be flying together as a squadron against an enemy before we break them up into their permanent assignments."

"Yeah," sighed Wildstar. "That's nice...when they know their permanent assignments."

"None of 'em do, Wildstah! You know that! C'mon...what's up? I'm gettin' worried about you..."

"They didn't tell me anything about my new assignment yet, Hardy. They didn't tell any of us..."

"They probably won't until this exercise is over. Or do ah have to give YEW the enemy pep talk, Wildstar? You did a good job; you're a better leader than ah am! All right? Two o' my pilots, namely one of my girls and that real dumb kid, washed out. Yew only lost one o' yours, Wildstah, and that means you outnumber us by one already. C'mon now, Wildstah. You're good at this. Go out there and kick some tail today!" said Hardy as he patted his soon-to-be "enemy" on the back.

"I'll burn you, Hardy," grinned Wildstar. "Even at low practice intensity, I'll burn you!"

"That's the spirit," laughed Hardy. "Good luck."

"Same to you," said Wildstar. "And, to Nova."

"She'll do fine, you know that!" laughed Hardy.

Yeah, I hope so, thought Wildstar. _Especially since she's supposed to be my wife at the end of the week...provided nothing happens..._

thought Wildstar. 

A few hours later, Wildstar's squadron, having simulated a ferry flight across the continent, came in for routine landings at Lowry EDF Base near Denver.

On the tarmac, Laurel Hartmann found Wildstar sipping on a bottle of water and staring out into space as the other pilots made their landings.

"Sir, if I can ask you what's up..."

"Nothing. I'm just...watching the landings before we brief. Trying to grade everyone, that's all."

"Sir, that's not it. What is it?"

"Nothing. I'm just thinking that our opponents are flying aboard that battleship, even now. Those landings and takeoffs on those _Andromedas_ are pretty tricky."

"So, what is it?" asked Laurel.

"Do you smell it?" asked Wildstar.

"Smell what?" said Laurel. "It always smells like this; we're right near the Rockies."

"No. There's something in the air. It's funny. The last time I felt like this was...right before the Comet Empire began to attack us. Something's not right," said Wildstar, who strained to look at the sky. "We don't have enough out there, and, even though we're training, and even though we have to train, if any of those enemy forces are left..."

"You think we could be attacked again?"

"Maybe," said Wildstar. "Or maybe I'm just jumping at shadows. But...that something...I think we'd better be careful out there, and not just of our supposed "enemy", either..."

Landing a Tiger on an Andromeda class isn't just hard; it's just near impossible! thought Angie Hartcliffe in frustration as she came in wrong and was "waved off" for the second time by the position of the landing lights near the new _Andromeda's _lower bay hatch.

thought Angie Hartcliffe in frustration as she came in wrong and was "waved off" for the second time by the position of the landing lights near the new lower bay hatch. 

Snarling a little, she turned around, and made the approach again. She finally smiled when the lights turned green, and the strangely reassuring computerized voice of the new ship's automatic landing systems said, "Nominal landing angle achieved. You are cleared for landing, Mrs. Hartcliffe."

"Thank you very much," said Angie cheerfully as she slowed down and caught the open rampway, cutting the engines down just as she was caught by the magnetic arresting field and slowed down enough to taxi in.

"Whew!" she said. "Now, the takeoff!"

"Darn straight," said Ensign Jack Redding, her RSO for this flight. Jack was a Canadian, while her gunner, Marine Sergeant Felipe Lopez, was a Filipino who was as tough as nails. He usually didn't talk much, but when he did, it was usually something you'd be wise to hear; especially since he was the oldest member of this Cosmo Tiger II's crew.

"All right, let's get her around and get her into her hold. Your friend's coming in next."

Angie taxied the plane over to her slot, feeling it go up the elevator as usual as she noticed Nova climbing out of her plane one cubbyhole below her.

"Well, what do you think?" asked Angie as she climbed down out of the plane's landing area and met Nova near a hatchway.

"I see what Derek said," said Nova as she looked around at the new, spacious hangar bay. "These ships are much bigger than the _Argo. _Pardon me for looking around; this is the first time I've been aboard an _Andromeda _class."

"This is the first time I've been aboard a battleship, period," laughed Angie Both of them were interrupted by a loud roar, screech, and bang on the rampway, similar to that on the _Argo._

They looked over in time to notice Tatiana's plane taxiing in, just as smooth as silk. She gave a cocky smile as she slowed down.

"How long do we have to our scheduled launch time?" asked Ensign Chen Hso, Nova's RSO. Her tail gunner, a young Space Marine named Lance Corporal Dave Levinson hadn't said much either, partly because he was the youngest in this crew and partly because he was too much in awe of his bird's pilot to say any more than necessary.

"About ninety minutes," said Nova, "...give or take a few. "Remember, Hardy wants us back around here to brief in an hour, and if the time of the attack changes, we might have to be in our cockpits in fifteen minutes."

"Got it," said Hso.

After Nova got a little food and water (some salad and spring water) in the _Andromeda's_ messhall, she decided to request permission to visit the bridge. Because of her status, another officer was easily able to arrange such a visit. So, it so happened that, fifteen minutes later, Nova was on the bridge of the new flagship of the EDF along with her escort, a Junior Lieutenant Palmer, who was, as it turned out, relieving the ship's comm officer.

"Sir," said Palmer, who turned to face Admiral Jeremy Falworth at his post, "As I stated in my call to the XO, this is our visitor, Miss Forrester, from the Recon squadron which is our guest today."

"I'm pleased to meet you again," said Falworth in his rather deep, impressive voice. "How'd you find your first "operational" landing on a ship of this class?"

"Easier than I expected, sir, although your lower hatchway seems to be a little tighter than the _Argo's_ main launch bay hatch."

"So I see," said Falworth. "It's good practice for our crews. There's been talk that they'll be putting regular pilots aboard this ship shortly. as it is, I think it's a little premature; since we're still working all of the bugs out of the ship."

"Bugs or none, sir, she looks magnificent," said Nova. _But, not the same as our ship_, she added, being sure to keep that thought to herself.

Walking over towards the main radar station, she glanced unobtrusively over the young female officer's shoulder. The new twin-screen Cosmo-Radar console looked similar to the one she regularly manned on the _Argo, _but Nova noticed at once that a few of the usual controls weren't there.

"Miss, may I ask where the calibration slide switch is?" asked Nova softly. "I'm an officer visiting this ship."

"Oh, of course, Ma'am," said the young radar officer respectfully. "I'm afraid we don't have one of those on this ship."

"Why not?" asked Nova.

"The computer performs the calibration automatically according to an automatic pre-set schedule. The regular old-fashioned acquisition adjustments to focus the image are made as soon as an image is picked up to ensure maximum sharpness on a normal bell-curve ratio, ma'am."

"I'm sorry, but not everything is on a bell-curve ratio in real life, Miss. Sometimes, enemy pilots and helmsmen are able to figure out when they're being scanned, and they'll ginch to screw up your image."

"Ginch?" said the young dark-haired woman with a puzzled look on her face. "What's that?"

"That's when they do a little maneuver to try to outsmart you. If you know what you're doing, you can outsmart..."

Nova went quiet before the radar officer did, because she suddenly heard a little Doppler shift in the intensity of the cosmo-radar waves of the _Andromeda's _radar that let her, as an experienced operator, know that the scanner had picked up an object before it came up on the next scan. The radar officer stared at the screen, puzzled, until she spotted an image on the radar.

"Captain!" she sang out. "I've picked up an image!"

"Where, Morrison?" asked Falworth.

"AT-304; range, 25,000 megameters. At the far range of our scanners, sir. Speed, twenty-five space knots."

"Confirmed," said the _Andromeda's _radar system computer in a flat voice. "Object acquired, range 24,939.20. Speed, twenty-four point niner-niner-two space knots. Information being downloaded to target computer as contingency. No threat pattern detected."

"I think you should watch that," said Nova. "I would."

"Why? There's no threat pattern. The computer said that," said Morrison.

"Vicki. Forget the computer for once," said Falworth. "Trust the instincts of our guest and of an old space sailor, okay? I'd keep an eye peeled on that object." added Falworth.

"It could be...space junk, sir. There's a lot of garbage floating around from the Comet Empire," said Vicki.

"Yes, and some of that garbage is giving me a very funny feeling," said Nova.

"Feeling?" asked Morrison as she focused on the scope. "Do you always go on feelings, ma'am?"

"When you've been around space as long as I've been, sometimes you learn to trust them," said Nova lightly. _But, something out there is telling me that's a rat! Oh, if only I was on the Argo and could get a look at it on a calibration scan!_

"Well?" snapped the Admiral.

"Sir, it's not doing anything...just drifting off," said Morrison nervously.

"All right, then...guess it's not a threat. Still...keep your eyes open. Look for any kind of changes you can detect. You were trained that way?"

"Yes, but not so as to detect..."

"Well, you picked up a tip from a Star Force member today for free," said Falworth. "A tip that could just well save your life someday; namely, listen _and_ look. Got that?"

"Yessir," said Morrison, who gave Nova a mildly dirty look.

"Thank you, Miss Forrester," said Falworth as he got up to shake her hand. "You taught all of us a valuable lesson today. I hope to see you again, someday, maybe even as a TDY instructor on a ship of this class..."

"Thank you, sir. I'd be honored."

At that, Nova left, knowing she had been, however politely, dismissed. However, she still felt uneasy.

What.., she thought as she went down the lift, ..._what WAS that blip? For a minute, I could've sworn it left the same sort of signature as a Cometine Scorpion...if only the computer would've let that officer override it to take a look manually by playing around with the scan bandwidth! But no...the computer doesn't LET them do that!_ _I hope that sort of thing doesn't cost them lives someday..._

she thought as she went down the lift, ... 

A while later, Wildstar had taken off with his squadron. They were maintaining a Combat Air Patrol around Lowry Base, keeping an eye out for intruders.

Wildstar's two wingmen were Pulvan and Sanjeeva Kayan. Both pilots were maintaining their positions off his wings very well, and reporting in periodically as they were supposed to.

Off behind him, to his left, flew Laurel Hartmann, leading an element consisting of a male known as Ensign Shin Takayama and a female known as Ensign Kristina Barrington. To Wildstar's right flew an element led by a Senior Lieutenant from the Afro States named Garrett Yonas. His pilots were known as Ensign Domingo Sifontes and Junior Lieutenant Samantha Halleck. Finally, bringing up the rear, was Junior Lieutenant Bryan Hartcliffe, who had, to everyone's surprise (including his own) become an Element leader, and second-best student, after Laurel. Hartcliffe's two wingmen were an Ensign named Jason "Jock" Jablonski, and another Ensign known as Aristobulus (usually shortened to "Ari") Nereus. (It also so happened that Jock and Ari were two members of the Scarabs.)

"All planes," snapped Wildstar. "Any contacts?"

Everyone reported "Negative," until Nereus began to say "Neg..", and then he said, "Sir, belay that! I've just picked up a contact, at RP-245, at the edge of my scope at 50,000 and descending!"

"All planes," ordered Wildstar, "Follow my lead, and ascend to 50,000. We're checking that out. Dragons, be ready to strike!"

The squadron roared up higher to intercept."Contacts spotted," said Angie Hartcliffe over her radio. "They're coming up from 45,000, coming fast. I think they've found us..."

"We're gonna have a fight!" snapped Tatiana. "Great!"

"Hold off on the chatter back there," snapped Nova. "Await the squadron leader's signal..."

"We allow them enough time to call for reinforcements!" ordered Hardy. "Red Centaurs, attack!"

A moment later, at low power, the two squadrons began to engage. Normally, the Super Starfighters would've had the edge because of their speed, but the Tigers had a slight edge because of a mild element of surprise.

The first "kill" of the day, (with lasers at low power) came when Ari Nereus earned took out Ensign Patricia Daniels from Hardy's squadron by coming up behind her and raking her plane with streams of fire.

A moment later, Yasuo Kirishima avenged the Red Centaurs by taking out Nereus. Daniels and Nereus heard tones in their headsets that indicated they were "dead" and out of the battle, so they broke formation and began to head back after the "deaths" were acknowledged by their squadron leaders.

"We've lost one; they've lost one," said Wildstar. "Everyone, keep the pressure on!"

"Right, sir," said Hartcliffe, who was now busy coming up the tail of Colleen Schaefer from the enemy squadron as the combatants soon forced the battle up into atmosphere that was so thin it was beginning to turn into the deep indigo of near-space. However, Hartcliffe regretted the move a half-minute later, because Schaefer's tail gunner was awake and alert; raking Hartcliffe's Super Starfighter with a bolt or two before Hartcliffe flipped over onto his backside and roared under the Tiger to evade that aft turret.

Hartcliffe was coming back up again when he spotted a bogie coming in hard and fast from a higher altitude on his scope. _Who's that? No one's up THAT high, are they?_ he thought as he swung around again to meet Schaefer, who had Senior Lieutenant Eric Wojenski lending assistance a moment later.

As Wojenski fired, Schaefer roared up higher. Hartcliffe evaded Wojenski's lasers and swung around to pursue Schaefer; Wojenski was soon in pursuit.

Hartcliffe noticed that they were up so high that stars were beginning to become visible. He looked at his scope again, and noticed two more ships coming up on his tail "Identify yourselves!" he barked.

"Hey, sir, it's just us," said Nereus. "I've got Jock with me. We've got two more of them on the run!"

"Great," said Hartcliffe as his fighter roared over onto its back. "Now, as for these guys..."

"No, SHOOT, NO," they suddenly heard Wojenski yelling on their frequency. "Guys! I've got that bogie on my back! He's not one of ours, repeat, he's not..."

Then, they heard a loud roar of static and looked up just in time to see full-intensity laser beams drilling their way into Wojenski's Cosmo Tiger! It went up in a ball of flame just an instant later.

Then, a moment later, just as ugly as their worst nightmare, two Cometine Paranoia fighters emerged through the ball of gas and flame that had been Wojenski's Cosmo Tiger.

"Curse it!" roared Jablonski.

"This time, Ensign, DON'T cut the chatter," said Hartcliffe." You...uhhh...Centaurs out there, we're like on the same side!"

"What?" asked Wildstar as he flew on some distance away in his Super Starfighter. Before he got an answer, an enemy Scorpion answered for him by rushing up on him from port with all of its guns going.

Wildstar evaded the enemy fire and began flicking switches with his other hand. _I've got to put a stop to this!_ thought Derek as he turned his weapons up to "combat" intensity and snapped, over a command override frequency that all of the friendly planes in the area would switch to when this signal went out, "Everyone...in BOTH squadrons! This is Wildstar! Boost weapons to combat intensity, and activate missiles! Repeat, combat intensity weapons and missiles! We are under enemy attack from Comet Empire fighter planes and space boats! The exercise is cancelled! All planes in the area, engage and destroy enemy planes!"

A moment later, when the Scorpion came around for another pass, Wildstar fired, and all of his plasma bolts hit, earning the first actual kill of the day for the Earth forces.

"Wildstah," said Hardy over his headset.

"What?"

"I've ordered all mah element leaduhs to regroup! Nova's told me that ten of those Scorpions just split off from the main group and are descending down towards Denver!"

"SHOOT!" snapped Wildstar. "_Bombing raid! _Whoever's behind this set this attack up to divert the rest of us! Hardy, order Nova and your other best element leader to break off and intercept those Scorpions! Hartcliffe, when you can get away from them, take your element and back them up!"

"Roger, sir!" replied Hartcliffe. "Bravos, give me a hand!"

"Soon as I get HIM," snapped Jock as he fired at a Paranoia fighter, which promptly blew apart. "GOT 'im!"

"Ready?"

"Comin, sir," whooped Jock as he and his crew held on while his Tiger met the others.

"Wildstar!" barked Priceman over his headset. "What the HELL is going on up there?

"This isn't an exercise anymore, sir!" replied Wildstar as he strafed two more Paranoia fighters. Off to his right, he winced as a Super Starfighter blew apart, having been caught by two Paranoias.

"It's real now! It's a Cometine raid. When can you get us backup?"

"A few minutes...the ready squadron down here was on alert-fifteen. That's changing right NOW," snapped Priceman as Wildstar suddenly heard sirens going off in the background. "But you guys are gonna have to hold them for a few minutes on your own. OVER."

"Acknowledged," said Wildstar. "I've just split them up. Some of the bogies are headed your way; we've almost finished off their first wave of fighters now," commented Wildstar as he fired again while getting a look at the situation on his scope and visually. "Everyone, head towards RP-532; that's where they came from! I'm going to try raising the _Andromeda _now, sir."

"Good luck, Wildstar," said Priceman.

Wildstar nodded once as he turned back towards his grim task.Nova looked on as the surface of Earth grew a little larger again in the deep night of space. She was having to evade fire from the upper gun emplacement of the Scorpion she was chasing while trying to get a missile lock on it.

"We've got it!" barked her RSO.

"Here we go!" cried Nova as she let loose two missiles while a flash lit up near-space behind her. They flew true, and soon, the Scorpion was history.

"Nova!" cried Angie.

"What?"

"There's one behind me! It got Colleen! My gunner's trying to get a bead on it!"

"Levinson!" ordered Nova as the tail gunner tensed at his controls. "Give us some fire!"

"Right," snapped Levinson as he and Angie's tail gunner returned fire towards the fast Scorpion, which was using its sheer power to try to evade, because for all their speed, the relatively large boats weren't quite as maneuverable as an EDF Astrofighter in the atmosphere. In space, it was a different story.

A moment later, both of them got hits. The Scorpion broke off the attack and tried to escape, but a missile whizzed in from above and blew it apart. Hartcliffe and his pilots joined Nova and Gabe Jackson, who was leading his element of the Red Centaurs.

"How bad is it?" asked Hartcliffe.

"Got three of them; they took out Schaefer," said Jackson.

"The others are still heading towards Denver!" said Nova as the atmosphere began to buffet them again while their noses and leading surfaces began to glow with re-entry heat.

"We'll go a little ahead all o' you," volunteered Hartcliffe.

"Great. We'll be right behind," said Nova.

"Good luck," said Bryan. "And don't get yerself killed, Angie. It'd like, really stink."

In her cockpit, Nova frowned a little while Angie smiled for a second before switching her full attention back towards her instruments and heads-up display. By then, Bryan's plane was out of visual range.

In the Denver Megalopolis, pandemonium reigned as the first of the Scorpions won the race and, with evilly smiling pilots, began a bombing run of the Western American city and her suburbs. What had been a nice day turned into a lurid, hellish scene. Buildings began to explode as the city was starkly illuminated by the fire and flame caused by missiles from the enemy planes.

The horror of the scene was only punctuated with screams until a few defense emplacements in the city began to fire at the enemy planes. A moment later, the defending fighters came right on their heels like hounds, with Tatiana getting the first one.

Angie and Hartcliffe blew apart two of the enemy ships with missile barrages. Jablonski took care of another one.

"Angie, follow me!" cried Nova as two of the enemy bombers let loose two more missiles and then streaked north, towards Boulder itself.

In the streets of Boulder a few minutes later, children ran out to see what the noise was right before the sirens went off and they ran towards shelter, screaming with fear until a sonic boom shook the town. As one of the enemy boats tried to evade over the Flatirons, which were the local foothills of the Rockies, Nova pumped fire into it from her plane's forward guns. Part of her was shocked at how easily this was coming, while another part of her thought, _For all I know, my parents are down there in that town! I CAN'T let those enemy planes get them! I just can't!_

Nova gave Angie a thumbs-up as she evaded the Scorpion's fire and managed to take care of it.

"Two down! It's safe now!"

Nova nodded as her plane roared back in towards the city of Boulder. Smiling a little, she dipped one wing in salute as she flew over her childhood home, not quite believing what she was doing.

Down below, Teri Forrester just looked out her front door in shock as sirens continued to go off, and smoke trailed up from the Flatirons towards the west.

"What's going ON?" she cried as, unknown to her, Nova roared overhead in her Tiger.

"Teri, you'd better get back inside!" called Karl. "It's the Comet Empire."

"The Comet Empire? They're still left? What about Nova and her wedding?" cried Teri in panic. "How can they have one if the town's bombed out?"

"Whew...everything's fine," said Nova as she glanced down at the receding town of Boulder on her recon cameras. "The house...the church..."

"Ma'am, what was that," asked her RSO.

"Long story," began Nova as her headset crackled. "Hello?" she said. "Hardy?"

"Forrester, Jackson, get back up here with Hartcliffe," said Hardy. "We've just found the carrier where these guys are comin' from. Wildstah and I are about to hit it, but we could use some backup..."

"Jackson, where's the enemy?" asked Nova.

"Hartcliffe and I got them," he replied.

"Great! Hardy, we'll meet you in a moment. What's your current vector?"

"RP-232."

"Roger," said Nova as she began to ascend again, followed by Angie, Hartcliffe, and the others.

A minute later, Wildstar and Laurel Hartmann caught a glimpse of the enemy carrier. They were surprised to observe that it was only a single-deck carrier, but it was more than dangerous enough, given that it was in the midst of launching more Scorpions.

"Where's her escorts?" asked Laurel. "How come there's only one destroyer escorting it?"

"I'm not sure; maybe it's a raider," said one of Laurel's pilots.

"Well, whatever it is, it's not going to be around long enough to get to report back about us to its command ship," said Wildstar in a grim and angry voice. "We can't let it launch those boats, whatever we do! Everyone, follow me! We're gonna hit the front of her flight deck!"

Wildstar's nearest wingman, accompanied by Laurel and her element, all followed the young Lieutenant Commander straight down toward the bow of the enemy carrier in a fast, vicious dive that was as breathtaking as it was deadly. A moment later, they had the carrier in their sights right as another Scorpion roared out of the ship's flight deck access hatch.

"Strange...weren't Comet Empire ships green and white?" asked Laurel.

"They were," said Wildstar.

"Why's this one grey and white?" she asked as she locked missiles on it.

Wildstar and Laurel fired together, followed by their comrades.

The enemy ship had spotted them...but too late to save itself. Even though it began to fire at them, their missiles were already on the way in and they were on their way out by the time any of the energy bolts got near the position. A moment later, hot gas and flame began to boil up out of the hull of the enemy carrier, and it exploded.

"Yeah!" whispered Wildstar, who allowed himself a moment's worth of jubilation before turning back to scanning space.

"Scratch a destroyah!" whooped Hardy below him as he and his wingmen pumped missiles into the Cometine carrier's escort, causing a flash of light below them. "And heah come all the others from Denver."

"Hartcliffe?" asked Wildstar.

"We got all of them, sir, with help from Jackson and Forrester."

"Forrester?" said Derek, who was a little filled with disbelief. "Nova?"

"I'm fine," she said over the radio. "I'm reading more blips, though."

Derek looked at his own radar. "You're right...but what is it?"

A minute later, his question was answered as five blips poured out of one of the others.

"Damn! They've got more carriers out there! And they just launched a second wave!"

Ten more Scorpions roared in, but Derek and his squadron evaded a wave of fire, and then shot missiles at the enemy boats right before they began to break formation. Three enemy planes went down.

"Two to go," said Wildstar. "Hartmann, you take the left flank. "We'll get the one on the right."

"Roger," she said. They engaged the enemy planes with their forward cannons, and, a moment later, the Cometine planes were history.

"Where's the fleet now?" asked Hartmann.

"Right ahead," said Wildstar, spotting a few blips. "Everyone, prepare to..."

"All planes, this is the_ Andromeda,_" said an unfamiliar voice from the new flagship. "We have the enemy in range. Clear the area; we're going to fire."

Wildstar nodded once and snapped, "All planes, clear the firing area! I think they're just about finished now," he said with a tight smile.

All the survivors of the battle grouped around Hardy and Wildstar and accelerated out of the battle area. They were heading back towards Earth when the new_ Andromeda _majestically opened fire, testing her new guns in battle for the very first time.

With barrage after barrage, two more Cometine carriers blew apart, along with four destroyers. A single battleship opened fire on the _Andromeda _for a moment, but its attack barely nicked the new ship. About two minutes later, it was history.

One carrier was left, along with its escorts. "General Gernitz!" said the squadron's commander, a General Paltris. "We've taken heavy damage! The Earthmen repelled us! They must've built a new space battleship in the _Argo's_ absence!"

"Where is it?" asked Gernitz's deep voice on the speakers.

"Approaching, sir," gulped Paltris.

"Did your planes attack Earth?'

"Yes, they did..."

"Your mission was a success. You caused a measure of chaos for the Earthmen and probed their defenses. Return now and report."

"Thank you, sir," said Paltris formally. He gulped as the _Andromeda_ turned towards his fleet. "All ships...WARP!"

The Cometine ships warped out just as the _Andromeda _fired again. However, its main guns hit nothing this time as the enemy ships faded away.

"Sir?" asked Admiral Falworth's exec.

"Cease the attack," ordered Falworth. "We did our job. We've scared them off, for now, at any rate. Let's head for home."

**

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**X. WILDSTAR'S ANSWER**

**Earth : The Federal Megalopolis**

**Earth Defense Headquarters**

**Commanding General Singleton's Office**

**Wednesday December 23, 2201**

**1006 Hours-Spacetime**

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"At ease," said the Commander as he stared at Wildstar.

"Thank you, sir," said Derek as he stood there in the office, all alone.

"Do know why you're here?" asked Singleton.

"No, sir," said Wildstar.

"I've received the report of the Denver Incident," said the Commander. "Luckily, the damage to the city and the surrounding towns was rather minimal, thanks to your leadership and the excellent flying of your students, as well as yourself. You'll be receiving a Blue Max for this, as well as four pilots from your squadron and six from Hardy's squadron. I'm privileged to tell you that one of them is Laurel Hartmann, and another is named Bryan Hartcliffe. You may also be pleased to hear that some of the others include Mister Hartcliffe's new wife, her friend, Miss Lubyanska, and your own fiancée. Finally, of course, one has been posthumously awarded to Colleen Schaefer. In my opinion, she would have made an excellent Black Tiger, Wildstar."

"I think the same could be said for everyone who died, sir."

Singleton just nodded. "You're going to begin two weeks' worth of leave tomorrow before your next assignment. Bear in mind, your performance as an instructor, in helping to train such an excellent squadron and integrate them into our rebuilding Defense Forces, has been instrumental in the Council's decision as to your new assignment."

Wildstar stiffened. _The Defense Council? What would they have to do with a new assignment, unless...?_

"Sir," asked Wildstar. "As to my new assignment, am I being assigned back to the Fleet?"

"No," said Singleton. "However, I can take the liberty of informing you that you've been standing here in an improper uniform for about...six minutes."

"Sir? Uh...what's wrong with this?" stammered Wildstar, who looked at his immaculate blue peacoat and blues. He couldn't see anything wrong with them. What was the problem?

"It's simply the improper uniform for your new assignment, should you wish to accept it, that is," said the Commander with a slow smile as he stood up, opened a drawer behind his desk, and pulled out a cedar box and an envelope. "We'll deal with this in a moment," said the Commander. "First, for the coat. She's currently not here, but I was able to ask Miss Forrester something about your tastes a few weeks ago. She was taken aback by the question, and had no idea why I was asking it, but she volunteered some information that proved useful. As a result, this new uniform coat has been ordered for you. It's yours, should you accept the assignment the Defense Council is offering you."

Wildstar's heart sped up as Singleton pushed the box towards him and opened it.

Inside was a black peacoat with a red collar. The trim was gold, along with the epaulets, which were the proper ones for a full Captain of the Earth Defense Forces. The features that made it unique were a gold anchor on the right breast and three stripes on each sleeve in scarlet. The stripes stood for "Freedom, Peace, and Strength" and were currently unique to the uniform of the Star Force, and no Captain had worn a peacoat with an anchor on the breast since Avatar's death.

"Sir, you mean...?"

"Now, your orders, should you accept them," said Singleton, who closed the box and took the envelope. He opened it and read over the orders in silence before saying, "The substance of these orders details your permanent reassignment to the new First Interstellar Special Missions Force, which just formally came into permanent existence by decree of the Defense Council six minutes ago at 1000 hours as of this date. This decree ratifies and makes permanent the emergency directive I passed in September that formally reunited the Star Force under my ultimate command. Your role in the new Interstellar Special Missions Force is as its commanding officer. Consummate with your appointment, you are also hereby promoted to the rank of Captain in order that you may assume command as Captain of the refitted _Argo _and commander of the Star Force. After you complete the two weeks' worth of personal leave which you have been granted, you will assume command of the _Argo_ on January 8, 2202 for the purpose of beginning a shakedown cruise of the rebuilt ship on the morning of January 9, 2202. It is now my duty to ask you if you accept this assignment."

Wildstar took a deep breath and then said, "Sir, I accept this assignment, and my promotion, with gratitude and honor. Thank you, sir."

"Congratulations, Captain," said Singleton after Wildstar put on his new coat and its matching white ascot for the first time. "I'm sure that my suspicions will turn out to be correct."

"Sir...your suspicions?"

"Yes. I always felt that you'd be a worthy heir to Captain Avatar. I am pleased to see that, at last, my guess has turned out to be correct. Wear that coat with honor, Captain."

"Sir, I will. I most certainly will. And, thank you."

"My best to you, and to Nova. I'll see both of you at your wedding on Saturday. And, last of all, happy holidays."

Wildstar snapped a formal salute, and left.

When he stood outside, he looked down at himself, and thought _I don't know what'll happen next. I never expected that we'd be attacked again...and so soon. What does it mean? Is this the end of the war with the Comet Empire, or the beginning of a new conflict?_

I can't believe it...thought Wildstar after he paused again. _Just three months ago, I was the leader of a band of mutineers, who had to leave his girlfriend behind. Now, at last, I've formally become the new Captain of the Argo, and I'll soon be marrying Nova. What a change. But, as it was said, tomorrow never knows...what the next day will bring. Whatever happens...I'd better be ready._

thought Wildstar after he paused again. 

**END.**

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End file.
